


Baby Face

by Araelin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Adult Content, Aftermath of Torture, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Bars and Pubs, Blood and Injury, Cocaine, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fear Play, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Gay Bar, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Heavy BDSM, Heterosexual Sex, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Past Abuse, Phobias, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Drugs, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Shower Sex, Spiders, Stockholm Syndrome, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Araelin/pseuds/Araelin
Summary: Lancelot Cadwallader is psychotic, and even deep down he knows his lust and craving to hurt him, the boy he's seen so often at the gay bar; Casimir Darius. He's attracted to him like none other, in love with the innocent boy's soft attitude, and the smell of mojitos on his breath. Once keeping his thoughts to himself knowing how fucked up he was, their soft and steamy, romantic relationship crashes to a clingy Lancelot's demise. For Lancelot, he's taken it a step too far to  kidnapping Casimir to keep him from leaving no matter what. Lancelot then fully realizes what he truly is capable of with a sick mind and refuses to let the love of his life go, regardless of the continuous police search. He's locked his lover down in the basement and inflicted numerous acts upon Casimir; drugs, alcohol, and sex, torture, humiliation, BDSM and more, using Casimir's loves and fears against him to claim the boy until he's robbed Casimir of everything and thrown onto death row. That is, until Casimir's Stockholm Syndrome acts up after months of affliction, he promises something to Lancelot that could break any lock. A lustful, broken, kinky, BDSM related relationship takes a wrong turn when faced with heartbreak and bound in chains.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, this story is 18+ and contains very, EXPLICIT adult material including drug and alcohol use, psychological trauma/abuse, and heavy sexual themes/pornography including sexual activity and rape, as well as torture, swearing, humiliation, heavy BDSM and violent themes. All tags/warnings apply at all times. MATURE READERS ONLY. The novel strongly revolves around Stockholm Syndrome between the protagonist and antagonist. 18+ only!

_**Detroit City, Michigan, USA.** _

_**November 6th, 2018.** _

Lancelot is sick.  He’s mentally fucked in the head regardless of how his brother, Brad, tries to  explain to him that what he was just seeing in his dreams were plain old nightmares-–sparing the gory details–and that he was simply confused. Both of them knew deep down that Lancelot needed to desperately see a psychiatrist, not just any kind of therapist. He needed medication and he knew this regardless of how badly he pushed it off of his mind. He needs someone to talk to–-someone to explain the vile scenes in his head.

However, Lancelot is the master of concealing his own feelings and thoughts, no matter what he thought of himself or imagined. He went through high school and college with his twin brother being some of the most popular kids around. From that, he learned that there was either people who loved you, feared you, or envied you; nothing in between. Those social interactions taught him a lot about who he should act like. He didn’t want to appear vulnerable to society or those who looked up or down at him, so he truly hid how he felt. He pretended, he played along with everyone else and made himself look the stereotypical jock at school with a classic sense of humour and a love for sports even though his heart was truly never into it.

Nothing is different. Nothing changes. Lancelot is lonely. He hurts. He has nobody but his brother, as his parents passed away years ago in a nasty car crash on their way home from their 17th anniversary dinner. The boys grew up with their grandmother until she too, had passed away, and at that point they were well off from the family fortune and their new jobs, fresh out of college. Brad considers Lancelot and him are very fortunate and lucky to have easily become so successful. He’s ultimately happy with who he has become and how far his brother had got as well, and mourns over the past when the time comes. Lancelot can’t remember the last time he was loved by anybody else. He’s never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend. His grandmother’s death hit him hard, and even though he claimed to himself that he was over it, he really wasn’t. He graduated with a business degree but didn’t let it define him as positively as anyone else would want it to. He made no difference to turn his life around because of how strong his emotions were holding him back. Brad could truly never say the same.

That’s the problem with Lancelot; he doesn’t know when to let go. He has too much emotion, and it’s so bad that it gets in the way of his everyday life. He can’t react to things like a normal human being sometimes, and he hates himself for it. His own feelings and emotions have made him sick to the core, down to his perverted thoughts and imaginations. Lancelot is jealous. He always wished he was more like his brother. He thinks Brad has always been the jack-of-all-trades in everything. Talented, smart, athletic, funny. Of course, Lancelot could be all of these things too, but Brad wasn’t emotional like him. Brad was in the middle of the spectrum. Lancelot could barely remember the last time Brad got angry with anyone or anything. Another thing he despised about his brother; it took a lot to get filthy emotions like anger or fear out of him where as Lancelot could get irritated so easily.

Ah, but fear  is something Lancelot claims he doesn’t have. He only felt such an emotion when watching horror or thriller movies with his brother. He enjoyed the occasional jump-scare that caught him off guard, adding more entertainment to the movies. He says he doesn’t have any “normal” fears. He doesn’t squeal like his cousins do when they spot spiders. He’s not afraid of the dark, and those haunted house tours on Halloween don’t even get him to flinch.  He always tells Brad that he’s seen scarier things, and that the modern day scare has just gotten cheesy. Brad believes Lancelot because Lancelot is a good liar. He wasn’t even afraid of being caught by the police, or anything that would send a person into a state of shock. He was responsible, or he liked to think he was. He had lied enough to protect himself and his feelings that he was confident about the words coming out of his mouth. If Lancelot wanted, he could make anyone believe what he was saying. He became such a skilled liar that even he realized the risks of white lies or big lies made of him. He only lied when it came to defending himself, protecting his personality and feelings; and he only lied when he needed to save his own hide.

 _“I’m human.”_ He’d tell himself, and that was enough for the day. Even he didn’t like it when people pushed him around. The same went for his sexual interests. He never dated anybody, but he was sure other people might have liked him at some point. Perhaps someone was admiring him right now, but he wouldn’t know. Nobody told him so. He had felt the occasional teenage crush on some girls in his class throughout high school and college, but he had been far too shy to ever approach them or get beyond a friendship. This was fine. It doesn’t bother Lancelot in the least bit. He was more attracted to guys than he was to girls, and even Brad knew. Brad thought it was cute, and he supported his brother thick and thin. This is what Lancelot truly appreciated about his brother; how supportive and accepting he was. He had a happy family, even if it was just with his only sibling and no lover to cling onto his arm.

Oh how Lancelot had always wished for a lover of his own. He’d often daydream about it too. Finding the guy of his dreams-–his prince charming-–one that he could cuddle up to when he felt lonely or upset. One he could tell his horrible puns and jokes too, go on dates with, and make love with. Lancelot had always told himself to be patient with these things. Love doesn’t just come out of nowhere. He convinced himself that if was patient, he would find exactly who he was looking for, or they would find him. He didn’t mind the order. But that caused Lancelot to visit gay bars quite often. He wanted to get more comfortable with his sexual and romantic side, and he liked getting a drink every now and then from the bar. He wasn’t big on alcohol, but a shot or two didn’t hurt. He’d sit there and smile at the conversations strangers around him were having. Some complained about work, and others told funny stories. Lancelot always minded his business, but he thought they were interesting too. He paid to see male strippers every now and then, sitting back and watching one of the best pole dancers give him a strip tease and a dirty dance. The gay bar was Lancelot’s favourite place to be, and he had already met and made so many more friends than he had during his school years.

That was the thing, Lancelot enjoyed his life. He told himself to stop thinking so hard; he was only human after all. He liked the serenity of life, he went with the flow of things. He visited his doctor every month for a checkup and was almost always healthy except for the occasional flu that would come around mid-winter. He constantly forgot to ask his doctor to refer him to a psychiatrist. It would not come up in his mind while he was talking to his doctor. _Was he making himself forget on purpose?_ Lancelot believed he didn’t need any special help. He thinks he can help himself, and he hasn’t hurt anybody but himself. He’s a strong believer that time heals all.

Lancelot was a jaw dropper. He and his brother had now only inherited the family fortune and mansion, but he also had the best of genes. He and his brother weren’t identical twins, of course, but they did share some similarities. Brad had dirty blonde hair, mostly mixed in with bits of darker, brunette hair, and he had always shaved the sides down to a medium length, so his swoop of his hair could hang off like a faux hawk and be brushed to the side of his forehead. Brad had a bit of a light beard coming on, but once he shaved it you couldn’t even tell if he had facial hair. Brad, just like Lancelot, had a hard time growing facial hair, but neither of the boys cared. They both had the same facial structure and light, grey-blue eyes, but Lancelot was the darker haired one. He had dark, chestnut brown hair and that he kept at a short-medium length, enough for him to side sweep it to messy bangs or shape it up with some gel. Lancelot was very well aware that pairs of eyes were always on him at the gay bar. He never claimed himself to be “hot”, but he assumed he must have been attractive to others. He didn’t mind the attention. People can’t help themselves. Lancelot did use his appearance to an advantage when it came to making friends, even without him aware of it. It just happened, but still, nothing had changed, until recently.

Lancelot had spotted him, this boy who had pulled his attention greatly. They seemed about the same height, but it was hard to tell most of the time because this boy was always sitting across from the strippers where Lancelot had always sat. The boy had sat on the plush, velvet couches, watching the strippers but appearing distracted most of the time. He would always hold a martini or some sort of cocktail in one hand, and smoke with the other.

His hair was almost a platinum blonde with little, darker golden highlights throughout. It was always brushed or slicked back, even put in a small pony tail with the occasional strands hanging by his face, and Lancelot couldn’t deny how attractive this stranger was. One thing he could deny was that this stranger hadn’t shown any liking or attention to Lancelot at all. Maybe they were too far away or the lights were simply too dim for the boy to make out Lancelot’s appearance. Lancelot had spent far too much time sitting on the chair, gazing at the boy and thinking about him constantly. All of these were dirty thoughts. When he occasionally looked up at the stripper dancing before him, he imagined the him in the man’s spot instead. He thought of how teasing he could be if he slowly took off his denim jacket and stripped down in front of Lancelot.

Lancelot imagined talking to the guy, buying him drinks and snacks at the bar. He pictured the two laughing and talking, having a good time.  This boy couldn’t be any younger or older than Lancelot. Lancelot was 23, and the bar was only for those over the age of 21. Lancelot heard the boy’s name being called by the bartender. It was an interesting name, Casimir. Lancelot daydreamed that he would take the boy home and they’d smoke a joint together, maybe snort some coke off the dinner table and get high for the shits and giggles. Maybe Lancelot wasn’t big on binge drinking, but that was an entirely different story when it came to drugs. Lancelot could introduce the boy to Brad as his new boyfriend, and they’d both be happy with each other. Then behind closed doors, Lancelot imagined how he would hurt him. Lancelot wanted to both please and hurt him, explore new boundaries and be kinky in bed. He would use toys, the dildos and vibrators, anal beads he had bought recently. He would use leather handcuffs and tie his boyfriend up to the bed and tease him slowly by kissing him all over. He would ask if his boyfriend was ready, and then he would leave hickies all over his neck. He would graze his teeth lightly to add to the pleasure, and grind on his lover slowly.

Casimir was beautiful to Lancelot’s eyes; such a handsome guy with a soft face that was baby-like, shy and innocent. Lancelot would feel hard at the sound of his boyfriend moaning and being pleasured. He would strip down naked and fuck him senseless. He’d kiss his soft skin all over and thrust into him from behind, making sweet love and then fucking him hard. He thought his boyfriend would probably be a submissive since Lancelot was a dominant after all, and this wouldn’t change for him. He would bite, whip, and spank his lover too, just like the dirty thoughts in his head Brad told him he needed help with. Lancelot thought it was kinky. He liked it even though it was wrong, and he shouldn’t have. If his lover lost interest for him or had eyes for somebody else, Lancelot decided he wouldn’t let him go. He would beat him bloody if he tried to leave, and he’d bound both his wrists and ankles.

Lancelot was a sick fuck, and he decided he was going to kidnap Casimir.


	2. Cynosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot's short dreams have come true as he meets Casimir face to face in the bar, only getting to know what innocence lies behind those baby blue eyes as the two come for a steamy moment in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my readers for all the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! I do read and appreciate all the comments/kudos/bookmarks on it! I'll try to update it even more often! It's hard work writing new chapters since I love to edit, tweak, and add on, so don't think I've quit "Baby Face" because there's more coming!  
> Just a heads up, this chapter includes references to drugs and alcohol, as well as heavy alcohol use. All other warnings always apply, 18+ for strong content and themes!

_**November 8 th, 2018.** _

_**Lancelot’s Point of View.** _

Skin on skin with our bodies against each other… Soft moaning, touching, kisses trailing down his chest. It’s an erotic picture that dances in the back of my mind; an image I can’t seem to erase. A shiver runs down my spine thinking of the pleasures there could be–the pleasures that weren’t there before. A feeling that was almost electric to me–a sight and a thought that wouldn’t compare to the dancers before me. I find myself fixated on him immediately. I can’t seem to peel my eyes off of him as I lean against the plush, velvet love-seat, holding a Bloody Mary in my one hand while crossing my leg over the other and resting my chin on my fist. I want to appear occupied at least, like I always do, ordering my cocktail and enjoying the show in front of me with other thoughts trailing in the back of my mind.

 _Thoughts._..ones about this boy in specific. The one named Casimir... It’s almost like he’s indiscreetly teasing me by avoiding my eyes, having not noticed me as of yet.

I watch one of the many skilled, exotic dancers put on their show with the colourful flicker of the lights flashing, and the poles on the stage. Surrounding the small stage with a variety of similar, velvet couches rotated around for easier view, and the boy only sits directly across from me, surrounded by strangers who were fixated on the dancers or on their cellphones. The air of the bar smelt of fresh fruit and faint alcohol; cigarette smoke trailing from the back doors and the sounds of chatter, laughter, and soft club music playing to accompany the guests and dancers. Glancing to the back of the club were many VIP lounges and private booths, yet this was the first time I’ve come here to see someone like him–stirring the ice inside his Mojito with interest–almost as if he was trying too hard to blend in.

No matter how much I gaze at him or give a complete stare he doesn’t seem to look up from his cocktail but continue swirling the chunks of ice inside the glass. Forcing my eyes to peel away from the sight in front of me, I gaze down at my half empty cocktail and finish the rest of it, pursing my lips at the delicious, yet interesting taste.  _Don’t stare. Don’t look. Don’t make it obvious, yes?_ I want him to come here, or to notice me at least in some form. I rise and glance at him again; the music far too loud for him to have heard or noticed anything. He doesn’t raise his head as I turn around, making my way back to the bartender for another drink.  _Hands running through his soft, blonde hair teasingly... Heavy breathing on each other’s necks, heated and flustered in the moment..._ I sit down on a stool and lean over the table, putting my empty glass down and glancing at the empty stools surrounding me, only filled with groups of friends and people at the second bar on the other side of the room. Only a man a few stools away from me remains, sulking over the table with several shot glasses and a stench of strong vodka coming from him, leaving me alone where I sit with my thoughts.

The tattooed bartender gives me a simple look, taking my empty glass and whisking it away as he comes back with a small glass filled with Jack Daniel’s whiskey. I give him a nod as a way of thanking him and grasp the cup in my hand, still feeling the blush flaring on my cheeks. My hand almost quivers around the glass as I swallow hard, attempting to calm myself down. I can only imagine how flustered I must look right now. _Wait until Brad hears about this one._   I rest my head onto my hands on the table, taking a small sip of the whiskey and swallowing it down. I focus on the various bottles of alcohol the bartender easily mixes and grabs off the wall, trying to remember alcohol content.  _Wet lips crashing over each other roughly, kissing hungrily as we battle for dominance... Holding him up against me, hearing him moan my name. That’s it now..._

“Funny seeing you around here now, you must come more often these days.” I hear the bartender say, confusing me for a moment as my daydream is interrupted. I furrow my brows and glance over at him, assuming that he was speaking to me, as I see his eyes looking to my side instead. Looking over in pure curiosity, I feel my heart sink as Casimir approaches the bar with a smile on his face, directed towards the bartender. He sits down on the stool directly next to mine, leaning over and grinning wickedly at the bartender.  _He’s here, so close, next to me. Fuck, I..I want him._ My muscles clench in deep attraction as I swallow hard, taking another sip of my whiskey and blinking.

“Being twenty-one pays off.” Casimir speaks, his eyes don’t even acknowledge mine as the bartender takes his empty glass, throwing out the leftover blocks of ice. “I don’t really have anywhere better to be.”

“Oh yeah?” The bartender fills up the mojito again, adding mint leaves. “How about college or something of the sort?”

“I’m working on it.” Casimir chuckles, taking his drink.  So, he’s around my age range after all. I knew it.

I listen to their conversation as the bartender wipes off the counter with a small smile formed on his lips. “Both of you seem to come a lot more often these days.” He suddenly gestures to me, catching me off guard.

My mouth is half open as Casimir gazes at me and I feel the familiar blush return to my cheeks at the idea the bartender may have noticed my gaze over Casimir. Casimir gives me a warm smile, raising his glass and taking a sip before swallowing his drink down, “and what makes you say that?”

“Young wanna-bees.” The bartender chuckles, adding more whiskey to my cup. “We don’t get a lot of regular customers or visitors here. It’s all very different and crowded each day.”

“I bet.” I finally find the courage to speak, staring at Casimir’s hands wrapped around the cold drink as he nods in agreement. “I’m a regular, here to find something to entertain me with.” I painfully force my eyes off of Casimir’s lips.

“You’ve come to the right place.” The bartender winks at me, “same for you, eh Casimir?” He returns his attention to the blonde boy.

“It’s a stressful summer, I’ll tell you that.” Mm, his voice is soft yet sounds like velvet to me, soothing in a way that brings my attention to him. I like it. I can easily imagine him screaming my name, bound to the posts of the bed.  I notice the Mojito in his hand is the exact same one he was drinking just moments before. The same kind, the same mixed drinks, and the same alcohol content–very low compared to the other heavier drinks here. He leaves his glass half empty before pushing it away, causing the bartender to raise his eyebrow as he pushes it back towards him. “Come on kiddo, you and I both know you need this.”

Casimir chuckles shyly, watching as the bartender refilled his drink before him, “let it all out here at least.”

“You like your drinks soft?” I find myself asking him, watching the alcohol mix with his drink.

“My limit is one, usually.” He looks over at me before laughing softly. “I can’t take drinks down too well, but these days, it’s getting to be the opposite.”

I chuckle, shaking my head before finishing my whiskey and placing the cup onto the table again. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed for.” Now that’s something I can deal with... I like a man who can take his drinks down. One drink­–Mojito’s are his favourite. I like the way he chews on the mint leaves before stuffing them in the glass. He likes his drinks cold to the touch, filled with ice, but never lets them melt. I like the way his pink lips touch the tip of the straw. Alcohol isn’t his dirty habit.

“Do I fit in?” He jokes, taking a napkin and wiping his mouth. “I’m fairly new here, you know. Once I heard about the shows, the people…the...” He pauses for a moment before grinning again, “the exotic dancers, I knew I had to check this place out. I like it, it’s serene. It’s entertaining.” Oh, how I agree with my adrenaline acting up within my veins; my heart racing as I find myself suddenly exciting at the fact he sits next to me, intrigued in starting a conversation with a complete stranger, or one that wouldn’t be a stranger for very long. He gives me a sense of determination I’m addicted to.

“Lancelot has been here since the place opened up almost four years ago.” The bartender leans his arms on the table, facing us. “Not a lot of bars like ours here in Detroit, at least not as big of a gay bar.” I knew exactly what he was talking about, fully agreeing with it. I wouldn’t catch myself in a regular bar with that immense pressure and feeling of not belonging in with everyone else, and seeing the mess of the other bars around here. Sure, there were many other gay bars here, but this one was my go-to. This one... Is even more special now.

“I can see a lot of people being regulars here.” Casimir exchanges looks with me. “You’ve tried all the drinks here?” He’s joking, teasing me this time. I notice how awfully sweet and interactive he is, not only towards me, but in general as he continues sipping his Mojito faster this time. He’s refusing to let the conversation die, and I can’t resist or deny my own indulgences of lust towards this boy at all.

“For almost four years, yes.” I add on as he gives a childish grin, pushing his glass away, letting the bartender hand him a medium sized glass filled with straight tequila. My eyes widen, knowing even I have a difficult time taking down pure tequila in a glass like that, but Casimir doesn’t even flinch as he takes a large sip like it was nothing but water.  _Interesting..._ I have a feeling he’s got other things hiding up his sleeve that don’t show as quick. It’s attractive in a way, seeing the way his muscles clench, his Adam’s apple bulging in the flickering, disco lights of the bar.

“How do you wanna pay for that?” The bartender empties Casimir’s old Mojito glass, eyeing us both. Casimir pauses for a moment as he swallows hard, halfway through the glass. He hiccups, coughing a little as my first instinct is to quickly clasp a hand on his back, patting gently as he exhales shakily, looking at both of us with foggy eyes as if he was dreaming.

“He’s drunk.” I point out, reaching to my pocket and pulling out my wallet, taking and sliding a $20 bill across the bar table. “I’ve got it.”

“H-hey…” Casimir coughs, covering his mouth before glancing over at me in worry. “It’s okay! I can pay, you know–”

“Honestly.” I shove my wallet back into the back pocket of my jeans. “I can afford it, it’s my treat for you as a regular here.” 

Casimir looks shocked at first before his lips pull up to a grin and he nods, finishing the rest of his drink and hiccupping again.  “Oh man...” He runs his slim, pale hand through his blonde locks, ruffling them. “Thank you... I appreciate it.”

I down my whiskey quickly, clearing my throat before hopping off my seat. “Don’t worry about it. Can I walk you out?”

“Yeah.” He lazily fixes the collar of his varsity jacket, rising slowly from his stool and pulling out a cigarette pack out of his pocket. My eyes widen slightly as I watch him take one shakily, placing it between his lips before he hands the pack over to me. “Would you...like one?”

“It’s all good, I don’t smoke.” I refuse, giving him a small smile as he nods to himself dazed, putting it back in his pocket and fumbling again to grab out his lighter. He drops it, pouting slightly as I quickly lean over, looking up at him from below momentarily and grabbing his lighter.  This is hotter than it should be. My fingers grind over the lighter as a flame flickers on and Casimir leans in, lighting his cigarette. I click the lighter off and hand it back to him, who smiles gratefully with the cigarette on the left side of his mouth.

“Does this count as my bad habit?”

“Depends on when it begun.” I tell him as I slowly make my way to the back of the bar with him, careful to watch his movements so he doesn’t trip or stumble.

“I like...the herbal stuff, you know?” He lets out a loud hiccup as I chuckle. His hand immediately moves to my shoulder as he clutches onto me, his breath getting heavier. “A-ah fuck, this...”

“Hey, I’ve got you...” I murmur, feeling my heart pound within my chest as I hold onto him, leading him out of the bar. “Do you have a ride home?”

“I do…” He nods weakly, blinking several times as I push open the back door and step out. “My friends are...gonna pick me up...at...”

“At?” I raise my brows as he struggles to find the words, remaining quiet and staring directly at me. I admire his facial features with my failed attempt to keep eye contact, noticing how beautiful his cheekbones and jawline are, adjusting to the soft, innocent features of his face. His skin is ridiculously smooth and soft looking in its appearance, not a single facial hair, blemish, or pimple over it. Someone takes awfully good care of themselves when it comes to hygiene, eh? His jawline is sharp and sleek, complimenting his looks perfectly with those baby blue eyes. He’s stunning to my eyes as I admire him and the pout of his pink lips as he looks back at me. I suddenly feel embarrassed with his eyes over mine, knowing I can’t compare as well.

“At... 1:30...” He whispers softly, and I can see the tequila taking it’s affect harder on him.

I peek down at my watch and purse my lips, “they’ll be here in five minutes if that’s the case, Casimir.” _I like the way my tongue rolls against his name..._ Both of our names are uncommon but there’s something I like about his... Something sexy about finding it in my mouth.

He shakily takes the cigarette between his two fingers and nods lazily, exhaling a gust of smoke to his side as he raises the cigarette back to his mouth. “It…smells like herbs.”

“What are you talking about?” I chuckle as he leans against the wall, clutching onto the bricks.

“I don’t think I have any...any...habits...to...fulfill…” He trails off, staring down at me in confusion. “S-sorry…this...is such a bad first...i-impression... Goddamn it, that alcohol hit least when I expected it, ugh..." Bad habits eh? What a conflict between mine I can definitely grow quickly to admire. One drink, one cigarette. Opposed to snorting cocaine off tables, smoking a joke, or getting shitfaced on nights that feel too lonely. Innocent he is, pure, but with those looks I can’t get myself away from him.

“You don’t have to worry.” I smile warmly at him. “We may have more in common than you think.”

“I’m gay...” He blushes, looking down at his hands shyly.

“I am too.” I chuckle quietly, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. I glance around us quickly, not noticing any cars around or pulling near before leaning in, “we can get you home, it’s alright. I suggest laying off the–”

“Kiss me.” He breathes, saying it almost as if he was pleading as the cigarette falls from his mouth and hits the ground.  My eyes widen in utter surprise, noticing how both of our breaths are laced with heavy scents of alcohol. My muscles immediately clench in reaction as I step over the cigarette harshly, crushing it underneath my shoe.  _Fuck. Me._ I quickly cup Casimir’s cheeks, leaning in as our lips crash against each other’s hungrily. We kiss sloppily and harshly, pressed up next to each other as our tongues battle for dominance. I taste the tequila and cigarette over his lips as he moans softly, stirring up something inside of me as we break away from the hot kiss, breathing heavily. I only gaze at the flustered boy momentarily before a car honks, causing me to turn around see a girl no younger than Casimir wave out the window. Casimir’s eyes widen as he stumbles up with my help towards the car, continuously glancing over at the both of us as he gets in the backseat.

“T-thank you... You’re...” He looks me in the eye as he digs his nails into the leather seats of the car. “Good...”

“Take care.” I whisper, patting the roof of the car and nodding at the driver before pulling away and letting the car drive off. Watching them leave until they’re no longer in my sight, I find myself panting almost from the bothered heat of the moment. My lips are still wet from his kiss, and my cheeks are burning red with embarrassment, blush, and adrenalin all at once. I’ve never experienced attraction like this before. Never had a boyfriend.  Never done any of the things inside my head. I shake my head, raking a shaky hand through my hair and leaning against the brick wall where Casimir was pushed up against me just moments ago. I calm myself down, feeling my heart slow from how hard it was beating, almost as if it was going to burst out of my ribcage in that moment. Thinking of the kiss, my gut twisted up in a knot of emotions, anxiety, and butterflies. I want this boy, I want him. _No..no..it’s not a matter of want, it’s need. I need him. I desire him.. I.. I.._ I don’t have his number.

I bite down harshly on my lip, thinking of what the bartender said before grunting and clutching onto my hair, sliding down against the wall and breathing heavily between gritted teeth. How, and when can I ever see him again if he doesn’t show up?! I need him, goddamn it! I need him, _I do... I do…_ Not just like this, but in every way. I need his soft lips against mine, his tongue in my mouth... Yes, I want my hand tugging on his blonde hair, pulling on his body to grind against mine.  _Fucking hell._ The very thoughts getting me going so fast that I can’t hide the bulge pulsating in my jeans. I’ve gotten this through my head now, this boy is what turns on me and what I truly want. No hiding it, no denial. It’s a must be. I have to see him again, I have to. I’ll do what it takes but...but... I can’t lose one like him. Not this one. This one is special...

I can picture him bound on the posts of my bed, eagle spread with my eyes admiring his body and his ass. His skin, soft to the touch when I took his cheeks in my hands to kiss him. I imagine trailing a riding crop down his back slowly and teasing him with it as I make him suck the corner of it, leaving a small path of his own saliva down his back. I’ll slap the riding crop against his ass until it’s pink, until he’s begging for more, until he moans and cries out in pleasure. His ankles and wrists bound up in rope or chains, oh, it’s his choice and it’s mine to what we want to pick. A ball gag in his mouth as those pretty, blue eyes follow me, drooling all over it. Lips puckered and swollen from passionate kissing, love marks over his beautiful, pale body, submissive to me. His hands clenching the bedsheets as I thrust into him from behind, stretching his hole and making him mine all over again every night.

I cock my head against the brick wall, breathing quietly as I squeeze my eyes shut, lost in the thoughts, lost in my daydreams once more. I place my fingers over onto my lips, feeling where his were, kissing and sucking gently over on my lips, so hungry and passionate for me. Mm... My eyes flicker open as I gaze up at the half moon above me, only able to _think...just thinking...just knowing I’ll have him belong to me…_ He tastes like every dark thought I’ve ever had.


	3. Ustulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diving into Lancelot's home life with his young brother Brad, this chapter digs deep into his unwelcomed sexual desires and wants for Casimir, taking something like a sloppy kiss at a bar too seriously. Lancelot cannot tell the difference between right and wrong while aroused, which brings him to a consequence through his brother. With stalking tendencies and masturbation arising, this chapter looks into how Lancelot wants to take Casimir for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kind comments, kudos, and bookmarks! I appreciate them all! I currently like the pace "Baby Face" is going at. The novel isn't rushing too fast at all, and I'm working on building more of the character's environments as well as their own personalities. While we get into Lancelot's home life and sexual fantasies for his new interest, Casimir, the next chapter will be exploring Casimir's side, and how he finds himself in the wrong place, at the wrong time.  
> With all that's been going on and all the people asking for more chapters, I will try to update at least once a week! I like the chapters to be nice and long, going on with the plot. Twice a week if there's no writer's block and lot's of free time, so make sure to check the date reading the chapters!  
> Leave a comment/kudos if you liked it? Who's your favorite character so far? Lancelot? Casimir? Or even Brad? Let me know in the comments!  
> Just a heads up, this chapter contains swearing, sexual fantasies, masturbation, etc. 18+ only!

_**November 8 th, 2018.** _

_**Lancelot’s Point of View.** _

With the stench of Jack Daniel’s whiskey and Casimir’s faint cigarette trail wrapped around my jacket, I can barely pull myself together to drive home. Clutching harshly onto the steering wheel, my knuckles go white at the grip–forcing my eyes to stay on the road–free from distraction. As I breathe heavily but quietly under my breath, I stare at the cars pass by me on the streets, my mind still occupied. With an erection almost bursting in my jeans, I feel my breathing and heart rate increase in excitement; a sign that I haven’t been truly aroused for quite some time. The feeling is almost ecstatic to me as he swallows the lump in my throat down, pulling up in the driveway of my home and glancing at both the lights in the house, and my brother’s 1999 Honda Civic parked next to my car; my younger brother Brad was already home. _What a shitty fucking car,_ I think to myself out of pure frustration. I peel myself out of my car, pulling my jacket off of my shoulders and holding it in a way so that it covers my pulsing erection before I approach the front door, fumbling with my keys and unlocking it, walking in to see Brad glancing towards his direction, sipping a tall glass of orange juice.

Looking preoccupied at first, Brad’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before he gives me a small smile. “Well, well, look who decided to come home tonight.” Of course, I have never missed my brother’s humour, even if it mocks me at times. My twin who is majoring in biology and minoring in chemistry with a bachelor’s degree of science–-Brad is an opposite of me in some sorts. I can think well in jealousy that my younger brother is in his last year of college, ready to make something of himself. Brad is clueless to the fact that I’m able to help pay the mortgage and bills graciously, especially for someone who doesn’t have a job, or in my case, a “legitimate job”.

Cocaine isn’t a job, especially selling it. For one thing, I don’t want to see Brad’s reaction to being a private drug dealer at venues, bars, or to special clients, and I’m _not_ going to let Brad know either. While our looks were what truly brought the brothers together, Brad had a faux hawk with his dirty blonde hair and had a bit of scruff on his chin. His teeth gleamed white when he beamed, and his hobbies were filled with fitness, fucking, and spending time with whatever girl he was interested in as of now-–all of the things I didn’t do, or cared for. Instead, I’m the one with medium length, brunette hair, and strands of my swept bangs hang on his forehead when I ruffle through my hair. Sharp jawline and features, it was my icy blue eyes that struck out at first; a more intensely vivid color than Brad’s. Unlike Brad, all I did wasn’t news. Crying in anger, anxiety, or pity–masturbating. With a hand wrapped around myself, all I can do was hope to beg pleasure out of my cock, gagging myself because I like the feeling. I have nobody, not even myself, because my sexual habits are undesirable.

“Funny, funny.” I comment, taking the chance of Brad momentarily looking away so I could finally remove my jacket from where it hung to my groin, hanging it up. “I haven’t seen you around all day either.”

“Maybe I should join you at the bar.” Brad gives a hearty laugh as I walk into the living room.

A slight look of concern crosses my face before I smile sardonically at Brad, “maybe that’s not such a good idea.” It most definitely isn’t and won’t be ever again. I know deep down that the bar isn’t going to just be known as a gay bar where you can get various cocktails, strippers, hookers, and dancing from, but it’s linked directly to private corporations and illegal businesses who make a hefty pay off of everything. Without sly links to powerful people in powerful places, the bar would barely have enough funds to pay off half of its rent, and that is a sad reality I can’t help but remember each time he enters it.  _Could you destroy a place like that?_ _Especially now?_ I think to myself before making my way down the hallway and towards the bathroom.

“Oh, you’re going already?!” I hear Brad whine from the back. “You just got here!”

“All I need is a shower!” I call back, opening the bathroom door. “Besides, I have something I wanna tell you.”

“It better be _gooooood_!” Brad calls back before I close the door, grabbing a fresh pair of clean towels and locking the door. I gaze at myself in the mirror, realizing the entire time I’ve been sweating, looking like I’m in a panic of some sort. I run my hands through my hair before stripping down, biting my lip as I pull off my boxers and slide them down my waist. My erection grows long and hard enough for it to become almost pleasurably painful, and my mind begs me to put it at peace. I take a soft breath, turning the shower on so it’s lukewarm before stepping in, letting the warm water run over me and soak through every inch of my body. I gaze down at my dick before taking it in my hands, closing my eyes as I slowly begin to stroke myself.  _That’s it... Yeah...just like that..._ I finally relax, hidden behind the curtains as I pump myself gently, my mind heading back to the events that only took place 15 minutes ago. It’s as if I can still feel his warm, gentle lips against mine, kissing hungrily and beckoning for more. Part of me can hardly believe it happened, while the other tells me it’s an act of interest. Interest laced with lust. Something I can get used to. Something I desperately want.

I imagine Casimir and I are alone in one of the booths of the gay bar, in a heated moment between our bodies. I picture his hand over my member instead of mine, rubbing and stroking me teasingly as soft moans escape my mouth. Just the thought of his small, soft hands is enough to get me going at this point. I stroke faster and harshly, jerking myself off continuously as I grit my teeth in pleasure, leaning against the wet wall of the shower, feeling my breath hitch at the waves of pleasure hitting me over and over again, increasing my adrenaline. I picture being able to strip Casimir down naked myself, hooking my fingers into his jeans playfully to reveal the tent in his boxers. I imagine stripping him naked and rubbing down his back until my hands cup over his ass. _Mm... It’s all so perfect._ I want to bend him over the table and spread his ass, filling his hole up with my firm cock; I want to make him cum, make him beg for more, and make him say my name. I grunt, holding my member firmly as cum escapes the tip, squirting out and trailing to the bottom of the tub. Breathing heavily, I watch as the last bits wash off, and grab the shampoo before cleaning myself off.

After my shower, I hop out of the bathtub almost in sheer excitement to tell Brad, to make him finally think I won’t be alone for much longer like he teased me for. I wrap a bath towel around my waist before discarding of my clothing into the laundry bin, ruffling my hair quickly in a smaller towel to towel dry it. I peek in the mirror and run a comb through my hair before stepping out into the cool hallway, fetching a clean pair of clothes in my bedroom. Pulling on some boxer briefs, sweatpants, and an undershirt, I step into the living room where I find Brad indulged in a thick textbook.

He gazes up at me and smiles, slowly lowering his read. “So?”

“So.” I smile shyly, feeling the same burst of excitement run through me as I did when Casimir approached me.

“Oh geez.” Brad burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Honestly, what is it? You’re never this happy, and to be honest, it’s kind of freaking me out.”

“It’s something you probably should freak out over.” I chuckle, running a hand through the wet strands of my hair. _No. Literally. Maybe you should._ I feel my smile fade off my face immediately after the thought.

“Did you spend the night with a hooker?” He jokes, holding the textbook on his lap.

“Even better,” I say, “I met someone. I met someone new.”

Brad’s eyes widen slightly at the news as if he seems delighted yet surprised at the same time. His shocked expression slowly turns to a sly smile as he looks me in the eye, “is he gay?”

My face flushes crimson, “well of course he’s gay! What did you expect?”

“I dunno.” He laughs harder, setting the textbook aside. “I knew it! What’s he like? What his name?”

Feeling the same rush of adrenaline bolt through my veins, my breath hitches in excitement as I continue, “his name is Casimir.” _And he’s perfect_.

“Casimir.” Brad repeats, nodding in amusement. “I guess the people with the most uncommon names find each other faster?”

“You think Lancelot is uncommon?” I grin mischievously. “I like his name, personally.”

“Sir Lancelot,” Brad snaps his fingers, pointing at me. “I’ve never been so happy towards thee, is this your knight in shining armour?”

“I’m this close to slapping you.” I roll my eyes but can’t help to smile at his teasing.

“Sorry, sorry! I think it’s hilarious.” Brad sighs in relief from laughter, “what’s he like, anyways? What’s he look like?”

“I guess you’ll be able to see when I bring him over.” I find myself blurt, unaware that I had even thought of bringing Casimir over to meet my brother that soon.

“Oh?” Brad raises both his brows, “one night and it’s that serious?”

“Well...” I mumble, “I guess I want it to be.”

“Then talk to him, interact more, I don’t know!” Brad throws his hands in the air, “buy him a drink, go somewhere else besides the damn gay bar.”

“Going somewhere besides the damn gay bar is called a date, buddy.” I plop on the couch next to him, sulking. “And...and...” Fuck! I just remembered. I don’t have his number. I. Don’t. Have. His. Number!

“ _Aaaaand_?” Brad peeks in curiosity at me.

“I don’t have his number.” I guiltily admit. “I don’t have any way of contacting him.”

Brad purses his lips in disappointment. “So, you’re not even sure if you’ll see him again?”

“Maybe.” I cross my arms, staring down at my lap.

“It’s like a one-night stand without the sex, huh?” Brad leans against the plush pillows.

“We kissed.” I add, glancing over at him. “We were both a little drunk and we kissed.”

“WOW.” Brad grins devilishly, clapping his hand once. “Now that’s getting steamy.”

“Why do you have to be so overdramatic?” I flush red in embarrassment. “It can’t be much.”

“Hmm, yeah, you’re right. Didn’t I just finish saying it was a one-night stand without the sex?” His grin fades as he shrugs. “And besides, doesn’t that stuff happen so often at the bar to everyone that it practically just originated there?”

“Would be the first time for me.” I mutter quietly.

“Who’s to say you can’t do it again?” Brad suggests.

“Me.” I speak up, my eyes meeting his. “I say so, because something like that barely had a chance of happening anyways. I don’t want to meet someone new and have another sloppy, drunk kiss with them. Not if it’s someone besides Casimir.”

“One-night stand with love.” Brad agrees. “And speaking of being drunk…” I feel his eyes on me, gazing at me in suspicion. “You said you kissed him when you two were both drunk?”

“Yeah?” I raise a brow. “What of it?”

“Okay, but how long ago was this? When you first came into the bar or what?” He questions.

“It happened literally fifteen minutes before I came home.” I point out, slightly annoyed at his mini interrogation.

Brad’s expression falls dark as he looks at me plainly. “Maybe he didn’t give you his number because he was drunk. Did you think of that?”

“I did say he was drunk, yeah. That may have been why.” I tell him.

“How...drunk? Because...”

“Because?”

“Lancelot, you weren’t drunk.” Brad shakes his head. “You never drink till you’re shit faced or drunk; slurring and attempting to walk a straight line. You did that out of pure free will.”

“I had a Bloody Mary and a medium sized glass of Jack Daniel’s Whiskey.” I point out. “I don’t know if you think that’s being intoxicated.”

“And you were driving?” His eyes practically bulge out as he rubs his temple, sighing deeply in annoyance. “Were you doing any of the things I said?” He continues to ask.

“No. I was fine, quite fine actually. I swear, I didn’t even feel drunk. I can drive just fine, Brad.” I fumble at the ties of my sweatpants.

“What about him? Did he drive?”

“No. He was opposite of me.” I tie a small knot. “He got someone to pick him up, maybe he knew he was going to get drunk.”

“How old did he look?”

“He mentioned he was twenty-one.” I give a small nod.

“You’re three years older than him.” He speaks in a low tone and says nothing more until I unlace the knot from my sweatpants and gaze up at him. His face expresses levels of disappointment and disgust.  “Lancelot, you’re telling me you took advantage of a drunk boy?”

“What?” The tip of my ears and the back of my head burn red with humiliation. “No! It wasn’t like that, holy shit, Brad. He told me to kiss him, so I did!”

“He was drunk!” Brad cries out. “He was almost wasted and you did it anyways? You do know you can’t consent properly for literally anything when drunk?”

“Oh. My. God.” I scoff loudly, standing. “You take everything so fucking literally, Brad. Honestly, get your head out of your ass. From your perspective sure, it looks like that, but from mine, we had drinks and spoke together before he tried to continue the conversation. I led him to the back so we could talk in private and bam! It just happened, okay?! It was so sudden and hot, we both didn’t know what was happening.”

Brad shoots me a look of disbelief before standing slowly. “Look. I don’t care.” He holds his hands up in surrender, shaking his head. “I don’t care what you or that Casimir kid did in the bar. I also don’t care how many drinks you had or if you drove tipsy, buzzed, whatever the fuck. The law can decide that for you. If I were you, I’d find him and apologize for last night’s events. At least talk to him, you never know how he feels. He’s probably puking in a bucket as we speak!”

“How do you expect me to find someone, Brad?” I scowl. “When you’re going on and off about having one-night stands with random people in the bar every night?”

“Apparently you loved it enough to tell me everything!” He exclaims, heading down the hallway. “Talk to him!”

“HOW?!” I shout back, “I just told you, I don’t have his number! I don’t even know his last name!”

“And he doesn’t know yours! Social media is your best friend, Lancelot!” He slams the door to his bedroom as I sigh loudly and deeply, covering my face with both my hands. The one thing. Just the one thing I love and need, yet it’s wrong. It’s deemed wrong. I don’t think it’s bad or wrong. _I just... I was just trying to please him._ I rub my eyes as I adjust my vision, grabbing the shared laptop off the coffee table, careful not to mix up the wires with the printer. I turn it on, muttering curse words under my breath, thinking as to why I even tell Brad anything to begin with before logging onto Facebook, ignoring the countless notifications from extended family. I click onto the search bar, typing in “Casimir”, and glancing at the quick search results.

My eyes widen in surprise as I find Casimir’s profile; a picture of him smiling next to another man in a bakery. Ridiculously easy to find from the beaming, bubbly and bright photo of the two taking a selfie with a neon pink sign of a bakery right behind them. _Casimir Darius…_ Darius? I like the last name. I feel a slight sting of jealousy before clicking on his profile, waiting for it to load.  He told me he was gay, but he doesn’t have a boyfriend, right? Is he interested in me? Is he? I gaze over at his profile, scrolling down and clicking on his photo album. While some things are private, most of his pictures aren’t. Scrolling past his photos, I eye him carefully. He looks like he’s practically glowing in the pictures he takes. He’s innocence in the purest form I’ve seen. While he’s lonely in most of the pictures, he’s always got familiar ones at a bakery. Come to think of it, it doesn’t really seem like just a bakery, but more of a pastry shop.

The man next to him is tagged as “Luca Orestes”, and I realize quickly that both of them have the same employment written in their “about” information. “X & O Bakery Shop”. So, they are coworkers after all. Even if he’s not interested in me, I can make him, can I? I mean... I’m rather impatient, so can I force it? Yes, I can. Yes, I will, if I have to. Where does he live? My eyes skim over the information, looking for more. Corktown? That neighborhood? That’s a few minutes of a drive from here. I smirk at the screen, impressed. He lives even closer than I thought. I don’t dare send a friend request or anything. I don’t want to seem too forward, right?

Clicking ‘print’ on one of his close up “selfies”, I watch the printer spit ink onto the page from the other half of the room. I clear my search history on Facebook before logging off my account and putting the laptop aside carefully. I pick up the freshly printed image from the printer and grin to myself, feeling so excited just by a photograph of him beaming into the camera. This one is my favorite so far.

“Don’t waste all the goddamn colored ink!” I hear a muffled cry from down the hallway. “Shit’s expensive!”

“Yeah, yeah, you, asshole.” I yell back, rolling my eyes and clutching the picture close to me. _Strangely comforting, mmm…_ Glancing around my room, I pull open my drawer and quickly slide the printed image underneath a few other old folders, concealing it well. I push the drawer shut, taking a deep breath--feeling my heart pound just from looking at a picture of him--knowing if anything, I had a piece of him after seeing him tonight.

 _“You do know you can’t consent properly for literally anything when drunk?”_ I remember Brad say almost immediately, bringing a frown to my face. He can’t, and neither can I... Are his actions explained by the fact he drank too much? I grit my fist, my expression hardening. No. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if Casimir isn’t looking for me like I’m looking for him, and I don’t care if he consented or not. He got a little taste of what it was like to be my bitch tonight, and that’s all. I’ll find him tomorrow, I will. I’ll show him around in the bar or even better–I’ll show up at his little pastry shop and give him a surprise. I’ll order a cake he made from his own hands and I’ll take him home. I’ll get him drunk if I have to, and I’ll cum all over his pretty little face. I’ll rub the cake frosting all over him and leave dark hickies, sucking on the sweet sugar on his skin. I’ll make him like me, I’ll make us happy. I’ll have my first boyfriend, but I may not start slow after all.

I’ve always been searching for that one thing I couldn’t have before. Something to keep me going, something to please me like none other... His... His virginity? Yes.


	4. Capernoited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Casimir's point of view, his life behind the curtains and pastimes are explained for this is his chapter, and it looks like Lancelot's favourite fantasies have played out well in his head once he finds his new love interest caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he takes no chances from Brad's word to make Casimir as interested in him as possible, regardless of how many Mojitos or teases it'll take. When Lancelot takes Casimir home, Casimir easily realizes Lancelot can get what he wants as long as he plays by the rules, and releases the sexual desires inside that Casimir never knew he had. Too soon, too sudden, the two are tied to each other quickly with interest and sexual passion, leading their relationship to just what Lancelot craves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casimir's chapter is here after we saw Lancelot's life with his brother in the last chapter. Enjoy Casimir's point of view and what he does that just ends up getting him caught in Lancelot's web of sex after all. And yes, Casimir is clumsy, but an adorable clumsy. Just a heads up, there is a bit of steamy and promiscuous behaviour in this chapter, and it'll just leave you asking for more at the end! 18+ only! All warnings apply as usual.

_**November 10 th, 2018.** _

_**Casimir’s Point of View.** _

Taking a deep breath, I gather all the energy left in me at the end of my shift, forcing myself to squeeze the last bit of vanilla frosting on the sides of the cake. I groan quietly to myself, knowing how drowsy I still felt from all the alcohol all the way from last night. I grit my teeth, forcing my best work into the last, commissioned birthday cake before setting the frosting down, clasping a hand quickly to my mouth as I immediately feel my mouth water up immensely in saliva. My eyes widen in horror as I stumble out of my chair, quickly rushing to the nearby trash can before hanging my face into it, removing my hand and vomiting violently. I cough and sputter, letting all the bitter liquid escape my lips as my eyes sting and tear up. I gag, letting the rest out of my mouth as I pant heavily, forcing myself not to look at it to stop my stomach from churning. Slowly raising my head, I grab a piece of paper towel off the counter, wiping my mouth off before disposing of it. I suddenly feel a sense of disgust and filth with myself as I wipe the small tears from the corners of my eyes.

 _Casimir, you can’t take your alcohol to save your life, and it’s fucking nasty._ It is, it truly is. I make a mental note to myself to never stray too far from home, and home was Mojitos, where I was comfortable with. I give a soft whimper, feeling the twisting, nasty feeling escape my stomach at last, giving me a sense of relief. Glancing over at the cake, I relax knowing I didn’t puke all over that. Gazing around the room, I’m secretly glad there’s privacy back here. Kind of. There’s a large curtain that separates the front of the store to the back. The store itself is composed of two rooms, with the entrance of a customer coming into the pastry store as a regular, small bakery shop. However, the curtains separate where the cakes are baked and made with various food colouring, frosting, and a whole lot of kitchen supplies a lot of people have never seen. Right behind that, where I am, is the storage room and refrigerator, where I keep my cooling racks, cakes, and ovens for the sweets.

I work with a close colleague of mine from high school, Luca, as we both attended the same culinary and baking classes. With some loans from our parents and funds of our own, we opened X & O Bakery Shop just downtown, where we sell and make custom cakes and sweets. It’s quite a small store, but it’s in the sense of renal money, business, and a place that feels like home. This is the job I love doing simply because of my love for baking, and a one-way ticket to affording college tuition for now. While Luca mostly runs the cashier and the front desk and I bake, we switch and help each other equally finish the cooking. It may ultimately be a lot of work, but whether it’s worth it or not could be debateable.

The curtains flutter open suddenly, catching me off guard as Luca peeks his head in, grinning wildly. “How’s that birthday cake comin’ up? You know Thomas is expecting the best of the best.”

“I’m trying.” I groan in complaint, “Thomas is really hard on me when he wants cakes for his daughter.”

“Did you puke?” Luca raises both his brows, walking through the curtains.

“Y-yeah.” I cover my mouth, burping softly. “I’ll clean it out, I swear.”

“Hey man, it belongs in the trashcan so you’re okay.” Luca places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me with worry in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I think I’m still tipsy from last night.” I whimper quietly. "My head and stomach are spinning like crazy."

Luca scoffs, pulling his hand away and shaking his head like a scolding mother. “What did I tell you about tequila, Casimir? You don’t venture off from cocktails to hard liquor you drink to forget your failures.” My eyes widen as I blink, staring at him before we both burst out into laughter. Luca shakes his head, chuckling, “nah, I’m kidding. I don’t think you can keep your alcohol down.”

“I think I know that.” I whine softly, carefully taking the cake and placing it in the refrigerator in the back room. “I’m done with alcohol.”

Luca peeks his head in. “Are you heading over to the gay bar again or what?” Luca fixes out the curtains as I walk out, joining him.

“Honestly.” My cheeks flare red in remembrance from last night’s events. “I feel like I’m constantly running away from something, so that place calms me down, if that makes sense. I like it. It’s actually not as wild as I thought it would be, you know? It’s kind of serene, and the people there are nice.” The people. _I mean Lancelot, right?_ Was that his name or was that what I might have heard while drunk as fuck?

“It will pass, either way.” Luca purses his lips in thought, “I think you should quit off of the hard liquor though anyways.”

“Oh, it was one time, Luca!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, acting whiny. “I’m not an alcoholic or anything.”

“Is the man you spent the night with though?” He smirks mischievously.

 _Ah forget it..._ I blink in confusion, “oh you’re fooling around with me, I spent the night with nobody but a huge headache and bad breath.”

“That’s the spirit.” Luca laughs, pulling the blinds on the windows. “And those cigarettes too, if I may mention.”

“Right.” I mumble, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my current cigarette pack. “I think you’re right. I just...” I sigh deeply, shaking my head and tossing them in the trashcan. “I don’t want these to act like a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

Luca pats my back in reassurance, smiling at me. “For now, it’s you, me, and some cake.”

I crack a smile, giggling. “Thanks man. I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” I untie my apron, hanging it up on the coat rack.

“Yeah for sure, don’t be late. I might have to confiscate your Mojitos.” He jokes as he takes off his chef’s hat and matching apron, setting it next to mine.

“I don’t think you’ll have to.” I grin as Luca shuts off the lights, stepping out of the store with me before locking the front door.

He winks at me playfully, grabbing his car keys from my pocket. “You sure you don’t need a ride to that gay bar tonight then?”

My face burns bright red in embarrassment as I quickly shake my head. “I can walk you know!”

“If you say so!” He presses down on his keys; his car lighting up and unlocking in response. “Let me know if anything happens.” I roll my eyes, smiling at him and waving as he gives a small wave back, starting the car and pulling out of his parking spot before he heads off downtown. When his car vanishes from my sight, I sigh quietly to myself and gaze around at the nightlife of Corktown around me. I shove my hands into the pockets of my grey sweatpants before heading off down the block, fast walking a little to manage time knowing well enough bars could be bustling on specific dates and times. I pass by groups of people without a second glance, taking turns and crossing streets at every opportunity when a car wasn’t around until I reach the block where the gay bar stands, lit up with neon signs of a naked, male dancers raising his leg in the air. Even from here, you can easily get the smell of booze and drugs under your nose. Two bouncers dressed sharply remain outside the back doors, gazing to their surroundings before I hesitantly approach them. What is it with this place anyways? The back doors…they’re... The familiar sting of blush returns to my cheeks as I gaze at the corner of the building where I had passionately made out with a stranger out of a drunken request last night. It’s more of humiliation that hits me now instead of a steamy moment. All my mind can linger on is the events before I got drunk; speaking with Thomas at the bar, drinking Mojitos, talking to another man...slightly older than me...this man... Named... Lancelot. I’m sure of him now. Is he still here?

I don’t take any chances before approaching the two bouncers. One buff, bald man who guards the left side of the door dressed in a black suit stares down at me momentarily as if I had a price tag on myself before he ignores me entirely. I blink in confusion before entering the gay bar, realizing this may be a sort of validation. I pull out my ID and show it directly towards him. His eyes scan over it for a mere second before he gives a stiff nod. 

 _“Well I’ll be damned! You really are twenty-one! Well, well son, if I were you, I’d wear that ID around my neck like a police badge. You have a baby face.”_ I remember a middle-aged man who ran the bar at my first pub experience had told me, just six months ago on my birthday. Thus, from that, a new nickname was born.

As soon as I enter the gay bar, my eyes flicker around to my surroundings. Most likely from being drunk on straight tequila last night, I knew I got a ride from the back of the bar, but I had never remembered what this place looked like back here. An actual feeling of nervousness racks me as I reach into my pocket, fishing for my cigarette pack before frowning. That’s right, I threw them out as a means to quit. I whine softly to myself, looking in my other pocket for anything before a crumpled cigarette touches my fingers. In surprise, I take it and glance at the sad thing before it slips my fingers and falls to the floor. Annoyed and embarrassed over my own clumsy actions, I lean down to pick it up before a six-inch, crimson red high heel comes crushing down on the cigarette, causing my hands to fly away from getting crushed. I watch the heel of the shoe crunch the twisted cigarette firmly before I grunt, staggering and glancing up to see who it was. To my dismay and horror, a woman about 5’7” stands before me dressed in red, lacy lingerie and a matching garter belt. She has a busty, curvaceous figure, but what stands out is her swollen black eye, puffy lip with a deep cut on it, bruised cheeks, and several cuts and strange red marks on her chin and jawline, leading down to her neck. I notice her arms are covered with more signs of physical abuse as she can barely stand in the enormous heels. Her eyes look weak and dry as if she had been crying before, and the throbbing gash on her forehead looked very sickly new.

 _What? What the fuck is happening? Who is this woman?!_ Who did this to her? My mind is ringing with questions as I fall down on my ass, bracing myself with an arm as I stare at her, mortified.

“O-oops.” She croaks, moving her foot away carefully and frowning at the cigarette, a genuine sad look appearing on her face. “T-that was yours? Sorry... I...” She struggles for words as I swallow hard, frozen in my position. “Can I get a cig?”

As soon as she finishes talking, a hand flies across her face, slapping her harshly. I flinch again at the sudden movements as she cries out, almost collapsing before a tall, well built, blonde man grabs her forcefully by the arm, hoisting her up. “What did I tell you about cigarettes and drugs?! Don’t you listen to me woman? Our customers don’t want a knocked up, dirty whore!” He reveals a heavy Russian accent.

I stare at the two as the woman shakes her head, whimpering and squirming in his harsh grasp. “Let me go! Ugh! I-I didn’t mean...”

“ENOUGH!” The man yanks on her mottled, blonde hair and pulls it towards him as she screams in pain.

I stare, breathing hard and knowing very well I could be the cigarette under his foot if I tried anything stupid.  “What the hell is wrong with you?! Don’t hurt her, she didn’t do anything!”

“Anything, huh?” The man narrows his eyes at me before leaning over and picking up the crushed cigarette. “You don’t bring your filth into this place, boy. This isn’t your business.”

“You don’t own her.” I speak up, “and you don’t scare me.”

“Scare you, eh?” He takes a step towards me as the woman cries attempts to free her arm. I swallow hard, staring eye to eye with him before he clenches his fist in front of my face. “Getting into someone else’s business, what you see here has nothing to do with you. Prostitution is business, you understand? A business you know nothing of! I should crush you like a fucking bug.”

“There will be none of that.” I hear a lighter voice make a nasty remark as the man lets go of the woman, letting her cry out and fall to her knees in a sudden motion. As the man takes a step back and turns behind him, Thomas, the bartender stands next to…him! Lancelot, the stranger from the night before! Lancelot’s eyes are locked with hate as he stares at the man as if they’ve had a rivalry for years. He crosses his arms next to an unamused Thomas who helps the beaten lady up safely and extends a hand to me. I carefully take it, standing and brushing off my pants. “Get your business and run it elsewhere if it interferes with guests.” Lancelot tells him, not batting an eyelash at the man’s physical intimidation. “He has nothing to do with you, so leave him be.” The man pauses momentarily, glaring up and down at us as if he was examining something. He scoffs, pursing his lips before spitting at the ground before us. “You’re all the same, pieces of shit.” He scowls back to the woman, causing her to flinch and squirm again. He points a finger at her before dropping the cigarette and storming off into the bar. “You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, Casimir.” Lancelot almost purrs at my name as he approaches me, rubbing my shoulders in worry. “Are you alright? Did that idiot hurt you?”

“N-No.” I blush, stuttering, “I must have come in through the wrong entrance or something.”

“A lot of the prostitutes and mafias do business here because their rivals won’t look here, or they pay a good sum of the rent.” Thomas nods grimly. “Unfortunately, we need them. I’m sorry you had to see that, man. Usually it’s not like this. I guess it’s a rough night for all of us.”

“I’ve seen worse, I guess.” I admit to him as Lancelot pulls away from me. “I think I need a drink, honestly.”

“That I can help with. Don’t make it a habit.” Thomas cracks a smile, nodding at the lady who pouts before rushing off into the bar. Thomas turns and heads back towards his stand without another word, leaving me and the hot stranger named Lancelot alone. Again.

“Dropped a cig?” He jokes, chuckling softly.

“Quit them. Or at least I'm trying to, anyways.” I tell him back in a shy tone. “No more hard liquor for me.”

His eyes widen almost as if he was pleased with the news. “That’s good to hear, and the events of last night–”

“Were fine.” I blurt, rubbing my flaring, red cheeks. “M-my bad, I got carried away. It was all so sudden.”

“That can be a good thing.” He points out, nodding solemnly. “I want to get to know you better, Casimir. As a friend and…” His breath hitches, “as anything else you’d like. Not just drunken mates at a gay bar every night. There’s so much more to it than this.”

“I don’t mind it, I agree.” I giggle in delight, “I have no problem. It gets quite lonely anywhere else.”

“Then we’re not so different after all, are we?” He grins in excitement. “I’m the exact same way, and if you don’t mind, I want to buy you another drink.” I blush, nodding and agreeing as he extends his hand toward mine in a gesture. I take his hand and let him gently squeeze mine in between his warm fingers, leading me back to the bar where we sit next to each other. I feel dazed and in a dream like state almost around him. Sure, he ultimately is still a faint stranger, but he feels so much more than to me. He radiates off warmth and friendliness, and no...it’s not coming off as some sort of act or joke to me.

He orders my favourite Mojito, sliding the icecold drink against the mahogany table as I sip it, watching him order his favourite cocktail: a Bloody Mary. “You know, there’s a whole lot of drugs and prostitution linked to this place.” He pats the wood of the table with a frown. “Sickening to see, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, that lady…she…” I point at my face with a frown, gesturing swollen lips and a black eye as Lancelot nods grimly.

I notice he keeps his voice down to a minimum, so I do the same. “It’s a mixture of everybody, not just one person. Drugs, sex, women, all of that stuff makes good cash to these people, so it’s common. I don’t want you to be scared or anything, but I had to get used to it the hard way too.”

“I get what you mean.” I pout sadly, wrapping my lips around the straw of my drink.

“I don’t want you hurt, is all.” He beams happily, placing his soft hand over on top of mine, reassuring or showing romance–either one makes me feel like I’m in a trance with this man. Distracted, almost in our conversation, I suck on an ice cube, wrapping my tongue around it and sucking softly, watching him speak. I’m almost certain his eyes are constantly looking at my lips as I swallow down the tiny shard of glass; my breath heavy on the scent of mint.

I lean towards him when I speak, wriggling my hips a bit. I like watching his body language correspond with mine as I can tell he’s interested. He brushes away free strands of my hair and pays Thomas for the drinks before he wraps an arm around my shoulder, leading me to where the male dancers and strippers are.We watch the dancers grind heavily against poles and music blasts around us. Lancelot’s arm is almost always around me as we laugh and talk, watching the strippers, sitting on the couches together. I have all of his undivided attention, and I let him take me to his home for the night, knowing I’d do anything but return back to my place and unfilled cardboard boxes that speak I’m ready to finally move out.

“So, where do you work?” He asks me as I’m all buckled up with my seat belt in the passenger seat of his car. “I’m guessing like, a music store?”

“Good guess.” I laugh, “I actually work at a bakery. I own one with my friend.”

“With your friend.” He smiles weakly, nodding. “I’d never take you for a boy who liked to decorate cakes.”

“It’s always more than that, or so the baker seems to be.” I chuckle, leaning my arm against the window and resting my head. “I’m sure it’s just temporary for now...even though I can’t think of it being shut down or replaced.”

“Hard running your own little business here in Detroit, even if it is just cakes.” Lancelot tells me, clenching his fingers against the steering wheel. “Although you’re definitely not too bad yourself, I could see you cut out with other jobs.”

I blush, rubbing my cheek in embarrassment. “Other jobs, huh?”

“Just a little bit of a teasing offer.” He laughs with me. A suggestive one, I’ll take to mind.

“I’m saving up for college, and it’ll be a bit harder now with my own apartment.” I tell him, almost too shy to reveal my plans, but dying to trust someone other than Luca with this subject.

“Do you like the feeling of independence, Casimir?” He glances at me momentarily as we stop at the red lights.

I bite on my lip, nodding. Fuck, the way he says my name like that! It’s so hot! “It’s nothing to do with family, just more of an ease and privacy thing. I mean. I’m twenty-one. It’s kind of embarrassing if you ask me.”

“I don’t think so.” He gives a small, ghost of a smile. “I would still be living with my parents if I could.”

“May I ask what happened?” I peek in curiosity as he begins driving again.

“My parents died a few years ago, when I turned twenty one–your age, shortly after.” He explains, pursing his lips. I can tell the topic makes him mildly uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat slightly. “It was a car crash, yeah, a tragedy on the night of their anniversary, but it was so long ago. I can barely remember much more except for their funerals. My brother and I spent some time with our extended family before we used some of their insurance to help pay the bills and continue living in the same house, just enough so my brother and I could score a job.”

“You’re an orphan or something of sorts?” I say, quietly.

He presses his lips together firmly. “I’m also a grown man, so I’m not sure anymore. I just know I don’t have parents.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” I attempt to change the conversation, knowing how painful that must be to remember the death of his parents.

“My twin, hs name is Brad.” Lancelot doesn’t seem all too pleased to admit that.

“Will we see him?” I ask, looking out at the dark neighbourhood around us.

“Not likely.” He chuckles lightly, “he’s usually out at house parties and shit, you know, college students these days.” College students...yeah. _Living the life._ “When you go, tell me you won’t be like him.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I gotta meet the guy first.” I joke, bursting out laughing with him as he pulls up in the driveway. “Is he homophobic in any way?”

Lancelot furrows his brows, thinking for a moment. “Not at all, I’m gay, and openly. Like I said,” he smiles happily at me as he stops the car, taking off his seat belt. “My home is your home, and I want to make you feel welcome and comfortable.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” I comment as we both step out, approaching his front door.

“And the place is never a mess since Brad is a neat freak, yet you don’t want to mess with his beloved colour printer.” He murmurs, glancing at his keys and figuring them out. I smile to myself, watching his fingers and movements as he picks out another key. For some odd reason, I pictured him as a man who might have taken a dancer or hooker home, maybe on the regular. I saw him as a man who was surrounded with other attractive men and had a lot to choose from. I still see him as a wealthy, yet much too taken back to ask him about his income. I’m not an idiot, I can tell he’s rich by the Armani clothing and Michael Kors watch. I hate getting personal too fast. I really did expect him to unlock and open his door to reveal some kind of golden palace filled with kinky sex machines and ropes, but my heart felt at ease seeing his welcoming home that was much, much neater than my place. Then again, is it really my place to wonder such things? Fuck, how turned on am I right now? And for no reason? Shit. I remain quiet and pay moderate attention as Lancelot leads me inside and gives me a quick but friendly tour of his house. It’s essentially a little bigger than my parents’ place, but it looks like somewhere I could fall asleep and never want to leave.

“In case you were expecting anything special or extra, I’m not.” He admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“This is a beautiful home you have here, you’re very lucky.” I grin happily, “I’m really in Corktown, which I believe is–”

“A few minutes away from here.” He finishes my sentence.

I blush again, “yeah, that’s right. So, we won’t be too far after all, will we?”

“Not at all, if you’re willing to see me again.” He plops down on one of the leather couches, getting comfortable as I sit next to him.

“I didn’t know this was going to be a regular thing, but it gives me something to look forward to.”

“Really? I did. I want it to.” His eyes again wander over at my lips as he fixes up a weak smile, sitting up properly. “You’re a beautiful boy Casimir, I’ll admit that. Whether it was fate or just some stupid coincidence we bumped into each other, it’s come out to be better than I expected.”

“You really think that?” My eyes widen slightly.

“I know that,” he insists impatiently, “I can’t help but...but…” He struggles to find the words for a moment, “I can’t help but admit, I’m wildly attracted to you. You intoxicate me.”  _And I melt._ I can barely believe my ears. It’s too much to be real to me. I admit this to myself, I’m nothing if not an ordinary gay boy, so why is this “stranger” telling me this?

“I...I…” My voice trails off with my thoughts as I swallow hard, feeling the blush return to me fully. “I don’t like just being–”

“Fuck whoever makes you feel like you’re just supposed to be used like a one-night stand or some stupid shit.” Lancelot narrows his eyes, “this isn’t anything like that. Goddamn Casimir, I can’t understand for the life of me why you aren’t whisked away by somebody else yet, but you fall into my arms. You kiss me outside the bar for what seems like forever to me, and then disappear without a trace. I’ve seen you twice, but I don’t think you understand I can’t get enough of you.”

“I’ve been thinking of it too.” I whisper, inching closer to him. “Everything. Everything feels so sudden, but I’m not protesting. I just...”

“You just…?” He lowers his voice.

“I want to feel loved.” My eyes almost prick up with pain at the words escaping my mouth. Holy fuck, why am I acting like this? This alcohol is really getting to me and my emotions right now, Jesus Christ. “Love me.”

“I can try, if you want me to.” Lancelot murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leans in towards me. “I can try, but I can always make you feel so good, isn’t that what you want? Even if it’s not entirely love?” He whispers almost erotically to me, sending shivers down my spine and making my skin crawl. He teasingly plays with my blonde hair, pushing a chunk of it behind my ear, caressing my cheek softly with his gentle hands. “I can make you experience things you’ve only dreamt of. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” I blush deeply, nibbling my lip and nodding shyly. “Ah, of course you are. Virgins get hard so fast.” He smirks, pushing his hips to my growing bulge. “Look at you, so heated and horny..  Should we do something to please your little friend down there? Now, all you have to do is say please.”  _Should I, should I? Can I?_ I swallow hard, facing him with a mixed emotion of both lust and curiosity to his words, being completely embarrassed and helpless against the fact my throbbing bulge was rubbing right next to his hips.

“Please Lancelot. Please.”

“Please what?” He says, barely audibly as he makes eye contact with me, sending the deepest fires of passion I never knew I had inside of me.

“Make me feel good, fuck me.”


	5. Basorexia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Lancelot's point of view, him and Casimir get intimate for the first time, resulting in some heated, passionate and sensual sex between the two. All that fuels Lancelot's sexual desire is Casimir's moans that fill the room, knowing their first time would lead to more intimacies and a short bond the two have never had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there's some immense erotic detail and anal sex in this chapter. 18+ only!

**_November 10 th, 2018._ **

**_Lancelot’s Point of View._ **

Hot skin on skin, I feel an intimate warmth rack over my soul as I intertwine my body and pleasure around Casimir, who is breathtaking sexy laying in my wrinkled bedsheets to my side as we kiss passionately, our tongues fighting for dominance. With each kiss, each touch–I can feel that exact same spark that hit me kissing him for the first time, seeing him for the first time at the bar. My erotic dreams and fantasies come true, watching the blonde twink before me strip down from his jacket down to his Calvin Kleins in such a slow, teasing movement that it could get me to beg for more down on my knees. Watching his hips move slightly made my throbbing erection more painful to keep content within my jeans, seeing his skin revealed as he simply shrugged his leather jacket off. I could feel myself almost melt when his eyes glance at me while removing his clothing, knowing perhaps in secret he enjoys giving me a good show. Just something I’d adore to see more often.

I bite my lip as I watch his skin revealed with the jacket falling; he’s slightly fit, but his body compliments the word “slim” like none other. His chest is silky smooth without a single hair in sight, glistening underneath the lamp’s sheer glow, illuminating him. I can see every inch of his fair skin, smooth to the touch with the soft scent of shampoo radiating from him. Even his small hands compliment his body as he fumbles with his belt to take off his skinny jeans–a cute little scene as he throws his belt buckle down and inches the jeans down his legs. I’m surprised to see not a single bit of hair over his body as his legs are revealed to me, wearing black Calvin Klein’s. As I see the tent in his kleins, I can feel my craving for his body to be underneath mine increase severely. He slips them down with ease as his cock, light pink with colour springs free, circumcised, standing at what looks like a solid seven inches to me.

I see the blush seep onto his cheeks as he grasps his cock, stroking it slightly. From the moment I rise from the bed, I feel my hands almost twitch in sweet, sweet desire to touch this boy and finally make him mine, knowing seeing him on his knees would be a sight to remember. As our bodies collide together, we kiss deeply and sloppily with our backs landing on the bed. I hover over top of him, taking full dominance as I cup his cheeks, kissing hungrily. His soft, sensual moans in my mouth only fuels my desire to fuck the living shit out of him, but a part of my body begs and forces for me to slow down, only giving him the passion I have lying inside. My hands trail over his gentle and smooth skin, rubbing first at his arms before lacing hands with him and giving them a reassuring squeeze as our tongues meet and kiss together. Greedy and asking for more, I break our needy kiss and spread more sloppy marks down his neck, sucking gently only to leave red marks I know won’t stay for long at all. He groans as I find his hands exploring my hair to my movements.

I graze my tongue softly over his nipples and feel him tense up in pleasure, the goosebumps forming on his arms and bristling against me as I appreciate each inch of his body. My lips kiss every part of his skin I can touch and feel as I move further down his body, rubbing his hips and planting a kiss on the tip of his cock. He whimpers softly in response as I smirk up at him, grasping his hard member in my hand.

“You like it when I kiss you there, don’t you?” I ask back.

“Y-yes...I...” He grunts quietly.

“Yes, sir.” I correct him as he gives me a tiny, shy nod.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” I murmur, clutching his thighs and giving his ass a light smack as he cries out, biting on his finger as he gazes at me in pure innocence.

“P-please fuck me.” He bucks his hips up in the air, “fuck me sir. I need something.”

“I know you’re eager.” I whisper, admiring his ass from the side view before slapping it again. I watch him wince in pleasure as he takes note of the look in my eyes, understanding to flip over as he does without a word. I squeeze his ass with both hands as he lets out a muffled moan in the pillow, clenching tightly onto the bedsheets. “I want to make you feel so good, you know?” I tell him, spreading his ass cheeks and gazing at his tight hole, grinning knowing very well what I can make do with him. To a cum covered mess, giggling underneath me it can very well end up as. I lick the tip of my index finger, gently rubbing it against his asshole as he bites down on his lip. I can tell right away his shyness relates back to his soft embarrassment, knowing we’re both virgins. One dirty, corrupted mind against an innocent, shy one. How beautiful knowing both our bodies match and compliment each other’s so perfectly. He’s like a godsend to me. “A little embarrassed, are we?” I ask for confirmation as I rub a little deeper, licking two fingers, lathering them with my spit as I push a little deeper, attempting to open up his holes.

“I’m a virgin. I can’t help it.” He whimpers, almost purring like a kitten. The sound is beyond erotic to my world of pleasures, giving me more than what I need as I gently slide my finger in. I watch as Casimir’s eyes widen, moaning sensually at the touch.

“Oh yeah.” I whisper, momentarily leaning over the bed to open the drawer, grabbing out a fresh bottle of lube I had bought months ago but never used. My excitement is almost flying through the roof knowing I’ll be able to finally use something I’ve been saving for God knows how long, and on someone as desired like him.

“Do you have flavored lube?” He chuckles, gazing back at me as I open up the fresh bottle, putting some of the cool liquid on my hands.

I smirk back at him, replying, “I hope you like strawberry.”

“In my ass, maybe.” He blushes, glancing down at the bedsheets as I spread the lube generously, watching him slightly arch his back at the cold liquid. I immediately rub over with my palms to warm up the sensation for him, being able to add three of my fingers into his ass with ease. With each moan that escapes his lips, I thrust my fingers harder and deeper, adding the lube around his ass to oil it as it glistens underneath the lamp’s light. He’s a sight to behold in my eyes as his slightly gaping hole remains before me, pleading to get fucked. I rub the lube onto my cock, making sure his hole is eased and relaxed before placing my tip at the base. I glance over at Casimir who bites down on his lip, peeking at me with innocent, blue eyes. With a soft grunt and holding his ass up to my hips with my free hand, my cock easily slides into his slicked and prepared hole. His eyes flutter shut in pleasure as he lets out a quick, loud groan. I grunt, bucking my hips and getting comfortable as I thrust deeper, watching him nibble on his lip harshly.

“That’s right baby, we stretched you open nice and gently..” I groan under gritted teeth as I slap his ass, thrusting all the way in.

“H-holy fuck…” He moans breathily as I gaze at my cock sliding in and out of him slowly. His mouth is half open as his eyes are squeezed shut, enjoying each of my slow, teasing movements. A little bit of payback from his teasing strip show, giving him something nice and hard to fill him up with, as a good twink should.

“Lancelot, I’m...” He cries out softly, arching his back. “Please, more! More!”

“Impatient for a virgin, are we?” I joke, keeping hold of both his hips as I thrust deeply and harshly, hearing skin slap over skin. My hot breaths and Casimir’s slightly girly moans fill the room as I speed up, fucking his asshole thoroughly. I watch his muscles clench his pleasure as his legs shake, pushing his hips back to mine. “Y-you’re so goddamn tight.” I moan back to him, squeezing his ass harshly. “I’m gonna c-cover you in cum, you little slut.” I breath heavily in a husky tone, pulling him back onto my lap as I lean against the headboard of the bed, holding him in a reverse cowgirl position carefully, easing him further down on my cock.

“L-Let me ride.” He whines softly, gazing down at my cock going inside of him as he gets comfortable, moving his hips up and down.

“F-Fuck yeah.” I groan, embracing him as his back leans against my chest. He cocks his head back over my shoulder, beads of sweat forming over his forehead as he continues grinding, begging for my cock to fill him up.

“Cum in me, please..” He pants, glancing at me momentarily before slamming his ass down onto my cock, causing me to groan loudly in response.

“I’ll make you beg for it like a dirty little whore.” I clutch a fistful of his hair, holding his head against my shoulder as his eyes snap open. He lets out a loud gasp as he whines, squirming on my lap and shooting a load of cum up in the air, landing on his thighs.

“Oh f-fuck!” He trembles in pleasure, cumming again and dripping down his legs.

“Fucking love that.” I slow down my thrusting movements, tracing the cum with my free hand all over my fingers, forcing my finger in his mouth as he sucks willingly, tasting himself. “You taste pretty sweet, don’t you baby?” I moan in his ear. “This is what happens when I please you.” I force a moan back as I shoot my sticky, warm load in his ass, letting him bend over the bed with his ass arched towards me as the cum fills his hole up.

“S-so warm.” He murmurs, glancing back and spreading his with one hand. I quickly stroke my member, continuing to finish my load while cumming all over his ass, watching my load drip down his hole, dripping back down on the bedsheet.

“You’re too good.”

“Only with you.” I regain my breath, pulling him gently to me as he sits on my lap, directly on top of my cock. His cheeks are flushed pink with blush, small bits of sweat on his forehead form as he holds onto me. His legs are still twitching from intense first orgasm as he gazes into my eyes. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?” He seems to be asking seriously as I carefully lay my head down on the pillow, holding him in my lap.

“Why do you ask? I said I was.” I chuckle, taking some of the cum that dripped on his thighs, popping my finger back in my mouth to taste his sweet yet salty cum on my tongue.

He blushes at the action, chewing on his fingernail. “I didn’t know you were capable of all of this; so good...”

“And now you’re blathering.” I rub my thumb alongside his chin, caressing him softly. “I promise I can do so much more.” I murmur, almost in defeat knowing exactly what I want.

“You’ve got me curious.” He whispers, laying in my arms and gazing at me as he pulls up the covers. “I have a feeling you hide some things for the right moment.”

My eyes widen slightly as I ruffle his hair, nodding at him. “Oh baby, it all depends. Time is such a huge factor. You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

“I don’t think I want to go at all.” He pouts, shaking his head. “You’re so warm and loving, .and...” He stutters for a moment, “everything else back home is bland and stressful. I don’t want to think of anything else right now.”

“But getting fucked in the ass is better than nothing?” I make a suggestive comment, laughing as Casimir giggles and looks up at me in amusement.

“Maybe we can put it that way.”

“And maybe we should get a sleepy Casimir to bed, hmm…?” I fluff up the pillow next to me, gently laying his head down on it as he smiles at me warmly.

“You take care of me.”

“I feel it’s my duty.” I lean over, kissing him sweetly on his forehead.

“Don’t make me wake up to an empty bed, okay?” He looks at me with concern growing in his eyes.

“Pfft.” I scoff, curling up to his warm body underneath the plush blankets. “I’m right here baby, I’m not going anywhere. For now.” I give him a wink.

He laughs, leaning his head against the pillow as he closes his eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“We’ll have to clean all that cum out first thing tomorrow morning.” I lean my chin on my fist, gazing at him with a smile forming on my lips, watching him snuggle up. “You’re probably dripping like a fuckin’ donut.”

“I think I like it this way.” He grins, eyes closed. “We can deal with that in the morning.” In the morning! Yes! Not a one-night stand after all. I nod to him, continuing to watch as the smile fades off from his face, sleep hitting over him slowly as I glance to my side at the alarm clock next to my bed. It’s almost 2AM, knowing he’ll need his beauty sleep, I won’t bother. I watch him stir slightly in his sleep before he completely dozes off, remembering that smile on his face, knowing he wants to very much wake up next to me in the morning, but not to messy cum covered sheets and an empty side of the bed. Worst case scenario would be such a thing, and maybe a messily written note somewhere around the dresser. Loving the pleasure I give him and being mine to wake up to in the morning today, I adore seeing him throw his head back and give a warm laugh, even if I’m the one who is always breathless.


	6. Kilig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of last night may just be the best of Lancelot's life and a hell of an experience for Casimir, yet this opens up a gateway to so much more kinky and strange possibilities, all that one person like Lancelot could definitely use. This chapter opens up into the insight of Lancelot's thoughts and his own little world in his mind, knowing exactly what he wants and just what he'll do, because he knows he's never been good at playing the gentle, loving role. One can only lie so much, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Holy shit, it's been a long time. I'm so sorry I haven't updated "Baby Face" in forever, but travelling gets busy and so does life sometimes! Has it been over a month now? I've been reading all your comments and thoughts on the story, and no, I haven't dropped it or quit! Writer's block is such a pain in the ass, but I've polished and fixed up this chapter, which may as well be the last before the big plot twist starts coming into play, just as everyone has been expecting so far. I hope you guys enjoy chapter 5, and just remember, the same warnings always remain chapter after chapter. This is an 18+ story due to it's extreme explicit themes! 18+ ONLY! This chapter has strong drug use and references to sex!

_**November 11 th, 2018.** _

_**Lancelot’s Point of View.** _

Soft is the word I use to describe the lingering kisses and touch of our heated, sweaty bodies against each other. It’s a feeling of excitement I’ve never felt with past intimacies, but something that satisfied at last–something that told me he has to be the one. As I weakly open my eyes, I gaze out the half-closed blinds of my window, peering at the rays of light peeking into the bedroom. I blink a few times to regain my clear vision, exhaling deeply as my attention is brought to the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. Glancing to my side, I find the bed is empty, but still warm. The pillow is tilted and wrinkled, along with the blankets, and a little air of steam comes from underneath the bathroom door.  _Casimir._ His name brings a smile to my lips as I gaze at the door, knowing he’s just recently hopped into the shower. Looking over the bed, I find cum stains spread equally around the center of the bed–no mistake that is where we were most active last night. The events of the previous evening unravel the darkest pleasures inside of me, like something waiting to be released and controlled for so long.

It’s been years since I last saw my cum dripping down a spread, pink asshole, but never romantically, pleasurable sexual intercourse. Casimir would be my first for many, many things that I have in mind. Things have just started out well. For one thing, I definitely wouldn’t be complaining if I saw him spread completely on his stomach on the bed, his ankles and wrists cuffed to the bedposts with a gag over his mouth. A pretty sight that would be. That, or a leather riding crop hitting his ass until it’s tender and pink; there’s too much to do and not enough time, especially for someone that willing and submissive. Up to this point, I didn’t know all I needed was a submissive. Right?

The bathroom door suddenly opens with a soft, burst of warm steam towards my direction as Casimir steps out, huddled in a little white towel around his waist as he peeks over at me innocently.  “Hope you don’t mind I used your towel. I didn’t wanna cuddle you all sticky and such.” He blushes at the words, closing the bathroom door behind him.

A smirk pulls up to my lips. “I don’t mind at all.”

He cracks a shy smile, approaching me as I eye the beads of warm water drip down his smooth, milky chest. I gaze up at his tousled, blonde hair, still soaked from the shower, and the small droplets of water on his wet eyelashes. He looks immaculately pure, as if he was just radiating innocence towards me. “Last night was…” He begins, his train of thought fading off.

“Was?” I raise a brow.

“Was amazing. I don’t know what to say.” He whispers, his face flushing red in embarrassment. “I’m not used to these things.”

“Don’t tell me that was the first time you’ve ever done something sexual.” I raise both my brows at him.

“No.” He smiles softly, rubbing his arm. “Barely done anything, but I’m not all…vanilla, if you wanna call it that.”

“Oh.” I swallow hard, trying to mask my disappointment. A virgin but what? But what?!

“I’ve done kissing is what I’m trying to say. A couple blowjobs, some touching, hand jobs, you know, the usual.” He bursts out laughing, “besides you and I.”

“Ever had a boyfriend?” I ask in a serious tone, clearly not amused by any of it.

“Only one.” He speaks quietly. I feel my heart sink to the bottom of my miserable stomach; a knot of emotions twisting in my gut as I look Casimir in the eye, can’t help to the feeling of mediocre betrayal and regret. I wanted it. I wanted to be his first kiss, his first everything. Why wasn’t I there first? Why didn’t I meet him before?! “If I didn’t mention it before, I’m sorry.” He chuckles quietly. “It wasn’t very important or meant much as a relationship. We were more of really good friends than a couple, you know? That’s why we broke up.”

“Oh really?” I question further, feeling my spirits lifted a bit. As long as they don’t see each other as romantic figures, or much of anything else, this can’t be mixed up with me can it? I don’t fucking want that. As a matter of fact, I don’t want anyone to be able to look at Casimir and think they have a chance with him, or a small spark of hope that can show any signs of romance. He’s mine. He has to be, anyway.

“Mhm.” He peeps, “why? Have you?”

“Never ever.” I burst out laughing. “Unfortunately, I’ve never been that lucky, can you believe it? My brother, Brad, however, has his fair share of girlfriends, enough for both me and him for two lifetimes.”

“Oh shit, wow.” His eyes widen slightly as he giggles, laughing with me. “Lucky him.”

“Nah, it’s all the same.” I scoff, standing and letting the blanket slide off my waist as Casimir’s eyes gaze down for a slight moment, the familiar blush returning to his cheeks. “Mediocre, similar girls. I think he has a type.”

“And what would that be?” He continues watching me as I open my closet, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers.

“Hmm... Blondes and brunettes, I think. Slutty girls, girls who party a lot, a little bit of drink involved but no drugs in Brad’s world. A bit of one night stands here and there. What a weird guy, honestly. I don’t even know how we’re related. My parents used to the say the same thing as a joke back in the day.” I crack a smile, pulling on my skinny jeans.

“You’re very lucky if you ask me.” Casimir ruffles his damp hair with a towel. “I don’t have any siblings. Growing up was very lonely for me.”

I smile sympathetically back at him. “I understand.” Alone... He understand like me then, right? I’ve been alone too, even in a room surrounded by people and ‘friends’. Having a sibling makes no difference for me. Even more lonely, if you ask. “Although it doesn’t make a difference for me anymore. I feel even more alone with Brad along, he only just rubs my introversion in my face, if that makes sense.” Casimir and I both face each other as I admit, “honestly, it’s been better with you around. Wherever you are, that is the better place.”

“I feel the exact same way.” He beams happily, grabbing his clothes on. “You’re not the type of guy to just use me and throw me around. I definitely feel at home here.”

“I’m so glad you do,” I slip my shirt over my head. “The last thing I want to do is make you feel pressured or rushed, baby.”

His eyes light up as the word ‘baby’ slips out of my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I mean relationship wise.” I fix up a smile, trying to desperately hide my nervousness. “I’m not suggesting anything, but this is how it should be.”

“You seem like you already have some things set in stone.” He tells me, smiling right back at me. “I like the idea, whatever happens, happens. I like going slow with this.”

I could love you. I could love you so goddamn good, you have no idea. I could make you feel like you’re basking in ecstasy like this every night if you would just let me, if you could tell me, and say the words. When I make you mine, you won’t regret it. Oh fuck, just thinking about this. It fucking turns me on, even if I’m incapable of loving someone like him.

“I’ll do whatever I can, if that makes you happy.” I lower my voice, raising my hand and gently caressing his soft cheeks with the back of my mind, feeling the warmth from his blush.

“I promise.”

“You’re much different from any other guy I’ve met.” He bites his lip, nibbling on it. “I like this lovey-dovey side of you. Really.”

“Lovey-dovey?” I laugh at the word, leaning over and planting a small kiss on his forehead. “If that’s what you want to call it, sure. I’m just as inexperienced as you are.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He smirks, “you knew what you were doing last night.” I can almost feel my muscles clench and my eyes darken at his words, a wave of excitement and pleasure running through me like adrenaline through my veins. Yes…

“You’re a power bottom is what I’m thinking.”

“A power bottom.” He grins, ruffling his hair. “I like the sound of that. Being submissive is like second nature to me.” His eyes shyly meet mine before he smiles. “But I’ve already said too much.” Wish I could make it on command. On his fucking knees, sucking cock like he knows he should. God that mouth could be used for so many things.

“I haven’t. I keep forgetting to ask for your number.” I sheepishly admit, shifting my feet in order to control myself from popping an erection any time now.

“Right!” He exclaims, snatching his phone off of the end table. “Should plug this baby in soon, it’s almost dead.” He murmurs, unlocking it and scrolling before handing it to me. “Here, write your number in and I’ll shoot you a text.” I nod, dumbfounded for a moment as I take his phone and write my phone number and name in, making sure to add my house address just in case. It strikes me now as to how active he must be on his phone, especially over socializing or literally anything else. My only contact was Brad. Now I’ll have two. “There.” He smiles, patting his phone and slipping it back in his pocket. “Unless I’m working or really busy, I can keep in touch whenever. Maybe not these few days though, I’m still in the process of moving, unless you’d like to see me again this week.”

My eyes widen slightly, nodding quickly. “Of course, I’d like to see you again. I could every damn day, if we had the time.”

“True.” He giggles, crossing his arms. “And you have work too, right? I forgot to ask, what do you do?” My face flushes in utter humiliation as I smile weakly at him. I’m a drug dealer. How the fuck do I tell him that?

“Nothing too special, I help out with deliveries from Brad’s friends and whatnot. I never went to university, so I’m not really qualified for anything.” I give him a half ass lie, almost cringing at myself.

“Oh, cool.” He nods at me. “Hey, whatever makes money, right?” Exactly. Fuck, this boy gets it. “Maybe one day you can visit me at my pastry shop with Luca.”

“I’ll put it on my list.” I give him a quick wink, “are you at least gonna give me a kiss before you go?”

“I definitely will.” He reaches up as I lean down, my lips to meet his at a soft and passionate kiss. I feel my eyes flutter shut with his for the split, blissful moment as we pull away, breaking apart the kiss and gazing back at each other. It drives every inch of me crazy, I can almost feel adrenaline kicking up again. I have to use all of my fucking willpower to hold my hands in place before they start twitching, itching to take him over my knee or grab his golden locks and force him down to his knees. Something about me wants him to be desperately submissive, maybe tied up in chains with a nice ball gag over his mouth so I can get off to his whimpers and muffled moans, and cum over those sweet cheeks. I’m thinking too much again. Something about blonde guys… “But please, for the love of God,” a sweet pout crosses over Casimir’s lips. “Let me call a cab today, I have to get to my parents’ house soon enough and I can’t stand to keep bothering you like this.”

“Casimir, don’t be ridiculous–” I start before getting interrupted swiftly.

“No, really! It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whines loudly, “let me call a cab, just this once. It’ll save your time and gas money.”

I chuckle, sighing deeply. “Alright, if that’s what you really want. I just want you to be safe.”

“I understand.” His eyes soften. “It’s just that I don’t know. Getting here and there is hectic. My parents are a tad bit overprotective, and yet I know that can be a good thing. I just think it’s annoying. I wanna live freely like an actual, independent adult. It’s a first for me, and I hate that they question everything. I’m sure they’ll question the both of us if they see you and I!”

“For sure, that’s what parents are for.” I push a curtain of his blonde hair behind his ear.

“You’re very lucky. At least you’re not stuck with an asshole brother. I’d say enjoy it while it lasts. Family can be the greatest blessing.”

“You’re right.” He blushes a little. “I don’t wanna go back looking like I was just thoroughly fucked.”

“Oh, you totally were.”

“Exactly, hence why I need to hide it a little bit before I make it too obvious.” He bites down on his lip again. Does he do this when he’s nervous? It’s cute. I like it. “Maybe you can meet them one day, right?” My heart almost stops beating inside my chest at the words coming out of Casimir’s mouth. My eyes widen as I gaze at him, bewildered at the thought. Not even for basic friendships through school was I invited to a single person’s house–much less even meet their parents. The closest thing I had to family was my grandparents, for both Brad and I never knew our cousins or aunts and uncles, if we had any that is. After all this time, “parents” I imagined, were grandparents but more directly linked to you, and generally younger. Our grandparents weren’t strict when they raised us, which is how Brad ended up in a shithole of a cycle that consisted of alcohol, tits, ass, and lots of naked girls. I ended up a fucking loser which I think I was meant to be like. Of course, I am. I mean, who the hell gets excited over a simple suggestion like this? I bet it won’t even go through, knowing my luck, but this does mean… He trusts me. And this is more of a “relationship” than I have expected.

“You think they would like me?” I swallow hard, attempting to hide my shock.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Casimir smoothens out his shirt, smiling up at me with hope twinkling in his eyes. “I kinda recently came out to them that I was gay.”

Coming out to conservative grandparents was never an option for me. “What was their reaction?”

“They said they totally saw it coming this entire time.” Casimir chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nonetheless, they were really accepting, but now they pester me about a boyfriend and stuff–when all potential relationships now and in the past have kinda gone to shit for me.”

“You’re open to it, though.” I offer.

“I guess I am, yeah.” He chuckles, shrugging. “But if I need to be, I’m fine independent.” We’ll see about that, won’t we? With Casimir leaving with a soft kiss upon my lips and safely in the back of a cab, I remain on the front door, giving a fixated smile as I watch both of them leave until they disappear as small figures on the road.

The more I stand here with the same forceful smile, the more I remind myself that I loathe myself. There’s obviously something wrong with me if I’m disturbing myself with the thought of this boy leaving my grasp, my own domain. Everything has gone down for me since I met, for the first time in my life forgetting to even have my weekly fix. I should do that before someone starts getting pissy. I sigh deeply, closing and locking the front door with a pained expression before gazing down at the grueling basement entrance and making my way down. I purse my lips, spotting our old dining table and a metal safe remaining in the middle, unbothered. I clench my fists, fighting strong waves of temptation as I punch in the numbers to unlock the safe as I grab out the large Ziploc bag of cocaine out, grunting at the weight of it in both of my hands as I set it down on the table, opening it up and relaxing at last. I sigh in relief at the sight of the precious, white powder as I take a tablespoon, scooping some out to exact measure as I place it over the table.

Spotting a few white chunks, I grab my old credit card from the safe and focus on the larger pieces, slicing them down with the edge of the credit card. I work patiently and quickly, organizing the pile of cocaine into lines before I grab a piece of wax paper huddled in the corner of the safe, folding it to a small tube just enough to fit in my nostrils. Setting the credit card aside, I position the wax paper to my nose before aiming it at one line of cocaine, and breathing in as deeply as possible through my nose. I sniff harshly and feel the cocaine hit me suddenly, rushing into my nostrils. I grunt, sniffling up the second line as I feel my head already begin to lighten. Four lines done and finished, I lean back in my chair and blink several times.

“Fuck.” I mumble to myself, feeling my heart race immediately as my breath hitches. The vibrant colors and patterns hit my vision as a lazy grin crosses my lips. The only sensations that cross my body are pleasure, and it tells me I feel like a million dollars. With a sudden rush of excitement rocking over me, I throw my head back and burst out laughing in gleeful joy. I grin wickedly and feel like the world’s power has rushed through my veins, only happy memories crossing through my mind. I watch the little colorful spots dance before my eyes as I watch them joyfully appear before me. Fuck, this is relaxation. What can I do? What can’t I do? Exactly, these are the questions I ask myself everyday. Often, I have more questions than answers to them, but who is to say I can’t go out and do the extreme? Who is to say I can’t just get out there and own what I need–what I want? Nobody. Not Brad, not Casimir. I make the decisions now and you should all listen to me.

Now, now, I know the others will want their fix soon. I know they’ll have use for someone like me in their industry. They need me, they want me. I’m everyone’s favourite drug dealer, and I have cocaine on my hands, and I’ll need to call my boss soon. I need to get my shit and my cash together. Suddenly, I hear the sound of the front door open in a small burst that could only be done by Brad who obviously had “a good time”. As I secretly wonder what happened in today’s orgy, I quickly hide the cocaine bag and paper along with the credit card back into the safe and lock it up. I sniffle deeply before giving a small cough into my arm, rubbing over my nose gently with my fingers before I stagger upstairs, watching Brad rake a hand through his hair and hang up his jacket with a contagious grin upon his lips.

From the way the light shines over him and how his body is angled, I can see a singular, deep, and large spotted hickey on his neck; fresh from the night. “Oh, you’re home.” Brad chuckles, gazing at me as he cracks his knuckles and stretches his arms out before him. “Thought I would at least see you with your little gay lover.”

“Yeah, you wish.” I mumble, rubbing my temples as I throw myself on the couches in the living room. “You’ve picked up a nice hickey, so I don’t even have to ask you what you were up to.”

Brad laughs, skipping upstairs in excitement. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe how great Vanessa’s party was tonight, holy fuck. There was so much booze, and we mixed it up with a whole lot of stuff. Turns out her parents have some good shit hidden in the attic, eh?”

“Boring.” I roll my eyes. “Anything else? Get any bitches on your dick?” Fuuuuck… This cocaine... The feelings are so goddamn strong but inviting at the same time…! I feel like the very couch I’m sitting on is slicing through the wind in action from how strong my senses have become.

“Nah. Not tonight, anyways.” He chuckles quietly, walking around the living room. “Eugh, speaking of, did you masturbate in here or some shit?”

“Whaa...?” I peek up lazily, “you think I masturbate in the living room?”

“It smells like lube.” He peeks up at me. “Strawberry, goddamn lube.” I smirk at him deviously as he stares back clueless. Only until both of his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes slightly widen is when he returns the expression. “Holy fuck, what?!”

“Yeah I’m not as much of a vanilla virgin as you think I am.” I burst out laughing. “What? Ya proud or something?”

“Well.” He gazes around the room before throwing his hands up in the air. “Of course ,I am! Had some living gay porn in this house and you tell me about it now?! It was with that Casimir, wasn’t it?”

“Who else would it be?” I smile sardonically. “I love him and his tight little asshole.”

“You’re nasty.” He snorts, sitting down across from me, “and high as fuck.”

“Thank you for pointing that out.” I yawn, snuggling the couch. “I’m trying to relax.”

“Uh huh, I hope you cleaned your bedsheets because it’s my turn to do the laundry and there’s no way I’m cleaning anyone’s cum off except mine.” He tells me.

“Alright, alright!” I giggle, “trust me, I got it. It was so cute for his first time.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oh, not much to say, though I can expect more in the future. We both had a lot of fun. See, just because you don’t know or suspect something, doesn’t mean anything isn’t happening behind the curtains.” I wink.

“Oh, give me a break, you sick fuck.” He rolls his eyes, but I can see him crack a smile.

“When are you gonna see him again? I heard he works at that little pastry shop.”

“Yeah, he owns the place with some other dude.” I nod slowly.

“I haven’t really had a chance to pop in and see what’s going on.” I pout, “I’d like to see him whenever. Right away. Even right now would be a good time, I can’t explain it.”

“Oooh, looks like Lancelot is falling in love!” Brad claps his hands, laughing so hard that he throws his head back; loving to tease me like this since childhood. “Now that’s fuckin’ cute. Bring him to a party with me and the gals next time, eh?” He stands, fumbling with his belt buckle.

“I’ll think about it.” I lie, watching him as he throws his shirt off. “Jesus fuck, you stink.”

“Sweat from dancing.” He sighs, agreeing as he throws his shirt over his head. “I’m gonna take a shower and probably hit the sack after, goodnight to you and your stretched asshole though.”

“Hey, I was on top.” I whine as he heads down the hallway.

“Sure!” He chimes back as I hear him open the bathroom door.

I giggle quietly to myself, clutching onto one of the nearby pillows on the couch close to me. I squeeze my eyes shut for this moment and I swear I can feel all of the rushing emotions come back to me instantaneously. The touch of Casimir’s lips, the feel of tugging on his soft hair, and the rhythm of my hard cock pounding his little asshole. He’s like the good little pet I always wanted. I chuckle to myself, shaking my head before sitting up carefully. YES! Why didn’t I think of this before!? Why don’t I just take him? Why don’t I just make him mine? I can do that, can’t I? Yes, I fucking can. Yes, I will.


	7. Presentiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot Cadwallader has lost his mind. Buried with the lust for his lover, Casimir, and his sadistic thoughts getting to his head, it's revealed Lancelot is not the only one who cares for Casimir, and isn't the only one in his life either. With his brother, Brad, only doing what he does best, and Lancelot left to his loneliness and sex driven, sadistic ideas, Casimir decides to be a little courageous and cross Lancelot in a way that he has been expecting and wanting for so long. Casimir has become Lancelot's "little slut", and many twists and turns lead the story's plotline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has heavy reference to drinking/being drunk, hard alcohol use, reference to drugs, heavy drug use, abuse, blood, depression, suicidal thoughts, blowjobs, and lots of reference to sex, sadism, domination and submission. 18+ only!

_**November 12 th, 2018.** _

_**Third Person Perspective.** _

Luca has already spent much of his break lingering outside of the back of the bakery shop, leaning against the damp, brick wall of the building, still fresh and wet due to the rain from the previous night. He lifts one foot to rest against the bricks, and the other down as he bites down hesitantly on the side of his lip. Luca raises his head slowly to gaze at the foggy sky, clouded with grey and bleakness, pushing further down on his rotten mood. He let out a little sigh, gazing at his black wristwatch that prickled up with a few splashes of rainwater. Only 5 more minutes until it was closing time again. He winces slightly as he loosens his bite on his bottom lip, realizing just now how harshly he was digging his teeth in. It became an easy habit for him, telling others such as Casimir to quit ridiculous habits such as smoking or doing drugs, anything that could easily be a dangerous addiction. Cigarettes, that is… Is such a thing out of bounds? Why of course it is! No such reason for Luca to become a hypocrite to his previous statements. If biting his lip will keep him away from drowning out his sorrows inside a nicotine filled cigarette, then he mentally decides that he’ll bite until he bleeds.

As Casimir works extra hard to stack up the cash they made for the day and carry the new sacks of flour to the back, Luca clearly realizes he is wasting time standing out here like a stray cat, and makes a mental note to slip Casimir an extra $10 for his effort, for nothing could get him out of his thoughts at the moment. For Luca, all seems strange and doesn’t add up, especially with the weather being a huge factor to his mood. Ever since Casimir has met this stranger known to him as “Lancelot”, Luca has realized very well that Casimir’s own mood has elevated to happiness he’s never seen the boy live through before. Casimir smiles so much more, he’s always in a bubbly and giggly mood, and practically skips off during close to meet his secret lover. Day after day, he returns to the store with damp hair, flushed cheeks, and smells like someone else’s cologne–this… This Lancelot figure. Was it appropriate to ask? Perhaps, perhaps not. Sometimes it wasn’t wise for Luca to step out of his comfort zone, and some questions never had answers to them, or ones he liked anyways. Last thing Luca Orestes needed to do was invaded in Casimir’s private, yet interesting life as it seemed, and potential, wild sex life. Perhaps curiosity is getting to the best of Luca, yes?

Perhaps it was something else. Perhaps it was the undying fear that he would be stuck in this musty pastry shop for the rest of his days, watching his morals and values decay away from him with the very ground his feet stood on. Maybe Luca was upset because he knew he couldn’t do anything about his loneliness; Luca knows he won’t do anything about it after all. His heart feels just as cloudy and filled to the brim with storms as the sky above him does, and he fights a battle inside of his mind that constantly urges yet pushes him away from tying a noose around his neck and ending his miserable life right here and now. Is it…? No, it can’t be. It must be something else.

Luca gives a defeated sigh to himself, moving his teeth away from his lip where he left a slight indent mark, and forcefully pushes himself off of his position from leaning against the pastry shop and makes his way in through the back door. The smell of freshly baked goods and the faint scent of flour and dough hits his nose immediately as he realizes Casimir has already put up the “closed” sign and wiped the front of the store clean. Luca blinks as he takes a few steps around, following the familiar sound of Casimir happily humming in the storage room.

“Watcha doing back there, flower boy?” He teasingly asks as Casimir pops his head out from a bundle of empty flour sacks and grins back at him.

“Just getting ready to finish cleaning up and head home. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Well shit, I think you’ve done just about everything.” Luca admits sheepishly, regretting he didn’t come in sooner to help. “I should pay you overtime.”

“I’m my own boss too.” Casimir giggles, dusting off his hands and his flower stained apron. “You really don’t have to, this is just what I do!”

“Doubt that.” Luca chuckles, leaning against the doorway. “How come you’ve been so happy lately? Win the lottery? Get into college? I’ve seen that undying smile off your face and it’s got me wondering.”

“Oh.” Casimir blushes, shaking his head and shooing off Luca. “It’s nothing too important. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s got to be important if your cheeks are this red.” Luca points out.

“ _Weeeelll_ …” Casimir extends his word, rubbing his pink cheeks that were quickly turning to a shade of crimson. “I met somebody.”

“Ah.” The words so easily escaped Luca’s voice as his assumptions were now confirmed. This “Lancelot” person was truly playing a huge role in Casimir’s happiness and overall work in the bakery, but this wasn’t anything Luca could complain about. As a matter of fact, Luca had nothing to say about it at all, but remain surprised and pretend he could believe it. Either Casimir was going to enjoy his first, real romantic relationship, or he was a cock hungry whore, sucking dick in a random guy’s house every day for sexual stimulation. Eh, couldn’t it be both these days anyways? “Lancelot, right?” Luca fakes a smile.

“Yeah, that’s his name.” Casimir peeps, stepping out of the storage room.

“Future boyfriend, then?” Luca heads to the cash register, clicking a few letters and popping it open.

“Maybe, I wish!” Casimir admits, embarrassed. “It would be a first for me, I’m always excited anyways.”

“I can tell. You act different, smell different.” Luca adds with a small laugh, playfully pinching Casimir’s cheek with one finger and grabbing a wad of cash with his free hand.

Casimir laughs, squealing softly with his giggle, “you like it?! I’ve gotten so used to his scent.”

“That’s gotta be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say.” Luca gives a small smile, “I’m so happy for you, kiddo. I’ve watched you practically grow up here, now that’s something worth bragging about.”

“Oh, you make me feel like a baby!” Casimir ruffles his hair, running his slender fingers through his blonde hair.

Luca laughs harder, locking the cash register and placing the dollar bills on the counter. “But one thing to remember, buddy.” He turns around to properly face Casimir who’s smile fades at the serious expression upon Luca’s face. “If it’s one thing you don’t wanna lose, it’s yourself. It’s your innocence.”

“My innocence?”

“Mm.” Luca nods, grimly. “I’m not talking about anything like virginity or whatever, I mean personality wise. You’ve got the purest heart I’ve ever seen in anyone, I can’t imagine someone using you or stealing your heart only to break it and turn you into someone I don’t want to see. You have no idea what kind of slums love can lead you to.” Casimir swallows hard, nodding and listening carefully to every word Luca has to say. Luca, as someone Casimir had admired when he first came looking for work, all the way till he was a manager at the bakery himself. It’s easy to say Casimir’s first friend may have just really been Luca. Casimir never thought much of anyone from high school, people had just fallen apart. He didn’t go to college the same time as everyone else did, ditching himself from his friend groups due to his natural shyness and innocent-like portrayal of his own personality. Now why would Casimir ever stop working at this tiny bakery store that if they didn't have living wages hourly it would cause them to ultimately starve on nothing else but bread? He wouldn’t, because Luca and him had made a place that stunk of cakes, flour, and icing their own home, even if it was just a small shack that only made enough to get by. It was something, and Casimir respected that. “Don’t let anyone steal your innocence from you, Casimir. You’re better than that.” Luca frowns, shaking his head. Remember, you deserve the best. Don’t make yourself an item for someone to use, and never accept being an option for any man or woman, regardless. There are some things you should speak up against, as long as you don’t let the world and this society steal the light from your eyes. You got that?”

“Yes, of course.” Casimir stutters at the sudden depth and meaning coming from these words from Luca, unable to believe himself and his own ears. “I really believe we’re going somewhere. Me and him. He feels different. He’s real. You know? Lancelot. There’s something about him I can’t quite put my finger on, but he’s special to me. I don’t want to let go of this one. I feel as if I’m really appreciated, and for once, wanted. Is there something wrong? Or something about this you want to mention?”

“No.” Luca smiles, shaking his head and lying. “I’m just telling you before it’s too late. Before someone forgets. Now take this and be on your merry way.” He hands Casimir his fair share of the stack of cash as Casimir nods, understanding and hoisting his messenger back over his shoulder. “And be careful out there, there are a whole lot sex workers lurking around this street now. I don’t know if they’re looking for trouble or for work, but try not to lose yourself in this busy city, yeah?”

“I won’t. See you next week!” Casimir waves happily, pushing open the front door and shoving his money in his bag. “Bye Luca!”

“Goodbye.” Luca mouths, waving back to him slowly as he could feel his own mood darken before him as Casimir left his sight and his company, leaving him to rot to his suicidal thoughts and everlasting loneliness once again.

_**Casimir’s Point of View.** _

“A-and you wouldn’t believe it! You just wouldn’t believe this sight of this little, blonde twink! My God, it’s like he went home and brought his own cutie. I bet he fucked him nice and good, eh?” I blink, keeping my head low and my head lower as I bring a frown to my lips, clutching onto my messenger bag for dear life as I continue to push myself through the crowds of the nightlife of Detroit, forcing myself to keep my lunch down from the rotting stench of the garbage, cigarettes, drugs, and the all too familiar smell of vomit and piss littered on some people around me. Oh for fuck’s sake.

“I heard he’s a cock sucking whore, at least from my brother, huh? Apparently he falls on his knees just to get some good dick, maybe he needs a good dick in his ass, HAH! Says Lancelot!” I freeze in my tracks, my eyes as wide as saucers from hearing the stranger’s conversation around me. I can hear my own heartbeat pounding in my chest at the mention of my lover’s name, knowing someone here also knows him just as well as I do, or at least I think I do.

“You!” I hear a slurred voice as I wince, getting shoved against a wall so abruptly as my eyes snap open, seeing a young male in his early 20s stand right before me; the scent of whiskey coming from his mouth as he breathes heavily, grinning wildly at me. I breath hard from panic and worry, seeing two half-dressed prostitutes on his side, giggling and rubbing his biceps. “I know ya! Or do I?” He hiccups, taking a step back before taking another intimidating step forward, causing me to flinch. “Don’t be s-scared!” He and the prostitutes burst out laughing as I pout, immediately trying to find a way for my slender body to escape him as fast as I can.

I peek at him shyly, attempting to start some sort of conversation. “I heard you say his name. Lancelot.” I don’t want any trouble, please, oh God, I need to get home safely.

“Well speak of the devil, dammit!” He chuckles, hiccupping loudly in front of my face. “I knew you’d be around, ‘yer just like the rest of ‘em.” He gives out a little cough as the girls surrounding him frown slightly. “Not you ladies!” He beams happily, “you’re the best, I love spending time with you two!” They giggle in excitement, planting sloppy kisses on his cheeks, proving my assumptions that they’re all pissed drunk and just wandering the street. But what does this guy have to do with my Lancelot? “You like my brother. Ya little cock sucking slut!” He points a finger in my face as my eyes bulge, my head fulling leans back against the wall. “You’re a little cum slut, aren’t ya?” He bursts out laughing, “I bet you like having your ass filled.” He gives me a playful slap, “welcome home, you blonde twink. I know my brother is just head over heels with ya! Don’t get me wrong bro, I like you too. I’m just.. Hic!” He hiccups again, covering his mouth. “Excited!”

“What’s wrong with you?!” I hiss, eyes tearing up as I shove his drunken mess of a self off of me, quickly rushing off as fast as I can down the block.

“Hey man! I thought we were gonna all be nice to each other and become best friends?!” He giggles from behind as I sniffle, rubbing my chest and coughing at the cold air filling my lungs, just running and continuing to escape from whatever I can, attempting to make it home, just somewhere. I wish to Lancelot.

  _ **Lancelot’s Point Of View.**_

I am Lancelot Cadwallader, and I am a sadist. I enjoy thinking about the sweet sound of the slap of skin it makes when I spank Casimir’s milky pale, reddened ass. I enjoy spanking him and seeing him moan and curl up in my arms. I love planting kisses over his body as much as I enjoy fucking him and filling up his little tight, pink asshole. I like him being my submissive, I could get addicted to the looks he gives me as if I own him. He knows he’s mine to dominate, and I fill his holes as I please. I fuck his cute little mouth as he speaks in muffles and moans against me, his slender hands rubbing up and down, pumping my member before I thrust it into his ass. And then I reveal my true side to him, as the sadist. I spank him till he’s blue and violet, I give him harsh hickies to mark that he’s mine, with bite marks and bruises on his wrists from the chains hung up in my basement; his asshole dripping with my cum, and his cheeks blushing and asking for more. I like to pretend my life is based off of sex, rough and passionate, filling me up, letting me climax whenever I want and wherever I see fit. I can only imagine me, me, being the dominant, never a submissive to anyone! I have the whip in my hand, I wear the leather boots. I sit on the velvet couch and I cross my legs, I watch him down below me crawl on his knees and beg for his master’s cock because although I, have barely admitted to myself as to losing my virginity so suddenly and so...deliciously, that I think I want to have this lifestyle.. I think I will make myself have this lifestyle. Domination and submission.

No...no... NO! “NO! GOD DAMN IT! NO!” I shriek, clutching my hair tightly within my fist, pulling at it harshly. “I can’t. I can’t! I just can’t!” I yell at myself, slamming my head down onto the table in the basement, sniffling and watching as my warm tears roll off my reddened cheeks and pool up in a small puddle over the wood of the table. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel the tears escape them once more as I peek them open weakly and spot the last tiny bits of the cocaine lying before me. I can just feel the stinging, fiery sensation my nostrils felt once more from using this motherfucker. I cringe, whimpering to myself as I pat the bits of cocaine with my finger and forcefully shoving it up my nose to shut myself up. Last thing I need is to cry like a fucking baby! “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” I wail loudly, throwing myself off the chair and landing on my knees onto the carpet. I sob, lowering my head and feeling my mind go dizzy and rush with familiar, fuzzy sounds and vivid scenery again. I swallow hard and taste my own tears coming into my mouth as I can’t stop my own goddamn crying. I whine softly, curling up onto the carpet and rolling so I lay on my back. I stare at the ceiling with all the strength I have left inside my pitiful, sadistic body and stare up at nothing but the blur of my own tears returning to the corners of my eyes.

What’s wrong with me? Why must I think this way? Why must I be like this? Truly, there has to be more in the world than Lancelot. Than just me. I can’t think like this. I can’t let these sick thoughts eat me alive, can I? What use am I to them if I can’t do what they ask of me? Can I hold him in my arms and break his bones forcefully? Can I break his heart and use him like those whores do to my brother? Can I finally become numb to this world and all of it or does it get better for a fucking loser like myself? Yes, this is all about him. This Casimir. My God, my sweet, sweet Casimir. His moans are music to my ears and even the touch of his milky pale, reddened skin when I slap his ass is worth more to me than an orgasm is. I just want to kiss him all over his body, nuzzle him, tell him I love him. No. NO! NO!

“No!” I cry out weakly and in pain, sprawled across the carpet like a pathetic mess. I can’t; it’s not in me to do things like this.. I cannot force it anymore! This essence inside me. It’s almost like a puzzle, but I have to figure myself out. I have to.  I carry the love, the scent, the taint, the touch of the sadist. I am a sadist. I wince, sitting up and wrapping my arms around my knees, knowing very well the task ahead of me. Using force, hurting him...but all for a good thing, right? I’m not so sure anymore. Not that some psychiatrist can tell me or anything.. They’d know right away how sick to the head I am, sick to the core. A wicked fucking sadist who dreams of a life of sex and only sex. Whips and chains, the most kinkiest of positions. Do I really have to go? But wait. Wait! I can call him anytime, can’t I? I mean he can’t be busy now. He probably misses and needs me as much as I do towards him! My sweet Casimir. He’s the only darling thought in my head that saves me from my own damned perverted thoughts. Sniffling as I pull myself up and together with the last bit of energy within my bones, I manage to scramble towards my phone and snatch it, shakily unlocking it with trembling fingers and attempting to call Casimir’s number.

Ring...ring… Come on baby, come on.. Ring. Ri–“Hello?” Yes. And just like that–just fucking like that–surely and most certainly, all the bad melts away inside of me. That tiny, soft voice can get my heart pounding for hours on end, a strange adrenaline that I find myself craving around my Casimir.

“C-Casimir.” I clear my throat awkwardly, trying not to breathe too harshly over the phone. “Where are you?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he squeaks back, “I’ve been walking home, I had to drop my car off to my parents since the breaks stopped working. But I’m okay, I’m fine.” I sniffle loudly, rubbing the tip of my bothered nose. 

“Where are you?!” I exclaim in excitement, rushing towards the front door. “I don’t care where you are, just tell me and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Lancelot!” He squeals back, “shh! I’m not that important to get excited over. I’m up behind the main street, where the trucks parked.”

My eyes strain as I swallow hard, gripping my fist and throwing on my shoes. “I’ll be there, okay? I’m coming as f-fast as I can. I’m going to pick you up, just don’t move or go anywhere. Don’t talk to anyone, you and I both know this city is fucked up.” _Or as fucked up as I am, right? Hah. Not funny._

“O-Okay!”

“Okay good, just stay.” My breath hitches as I hang up, shoving my phone in my pocket and flying out the front door as fast as my legs can carry. I breath heavily and make it to my car, jumping in and starting up the vehicle, glancing both ways before

I burst off down the driveway and towards the back of the main street. My eyes feel like they could see each and every detail of the night from the cracks in the sidewalks to the bugs crawling in the trees. My ears feel so keen that I swear every sound is to my attention as I push my luck a little further with the speed limit. In due time, I pull over to the truck stop, where I see tons of large vehicles parked around the lot, some with lights on and others off with curtains shut tight. I finally calm down my breathing and step out of the car, walking frantically around to what could be a dark corner or a figure huddling and hiding somewhere. Dear God, no. If anything happens to him, I’ll die. I will! I’ll die! My eyes light up as I spot Casimir huddling on the sidewalk, peeking up at me with his big, bright, blue eyes. I can’t help but grin as I rush towards him and he stands, joining my tight embrace as I nuzzle him and pull his warm body to mine.

“T-There you are so cold and…” I murmur, rubbing his back in circles.

I can physically feel Casimir’s muscles relaxes as he lets out a tiny whine and a sigh. “You do too much for me.”

“Not enough.” I face him, swallowing hard and feeling the tips of my ears and the back of my neck prickle up with heat. This humiliation–this embarrassment–it does enough to kill me, I swear to fuck. I stare at him hesitantly as a smile pulls on his pouty, pink lips.

“Again, I make another mistake to put you in a hurry, baby.” He mumbles softly. I feel my heart slam against my chest at the word, practically unable to keep my hands off of him. There’s something different about him this time. What? I blink, watching as his pupils widen and he squeezes my shoulders tightly, nodding slowly at me. “Lancelot. I...”

“You…” I mutter, “Casimir. You’re...” I can practically feel my cock throbbing in my jeans. He puts a finger up to his lips to hush me, carefully glancing at the parking lot. I swear I saw him look nervous for a moment, just a simple glance of hesitation in his eyes before full-fledged confidence takes him over to do what? I raise a brow as he lets out a little giggle, forcing myself to hide the fact I’m so fucking turned on and for no goddamn reason. If Casimir can act out of order for a little bit, then eventually I’m gonna be stuck with blue balls for a month.

I watch Casimir as he slowly kneels down, gazing up at me innocently. I look back at him with curiosity, unable to move or do anything as I’m frozen in spot with sheer embarrassment. My face is probably the color of a tomato as I watch him kneel down, his perfect and elegant, slim body moving in correlation with just exactly what I want. What I fucking need.. Oh God. I watch Casimir as he reaches up, slipping the button off of my jeans with ease and pulling the zipper down. He concentrates on my bulge which at this point is throbbing. I bite down on my lip harshly to keep my ugly whines in, knowing I’m gonna burst any second. Casimir pulls down my jeans down to my knees and kisses the tent in my kleins. My arousal and confusion fly out of the roof as I accept this sudden, hot gesture to my advantage. He moves his hands around the cloth of my boxers before he plays with the trim, pulling it down with a shy smile. He reveals my cock at its full, erect size, bulging and remaining before him. I let out a shaky breath as I hold my knees from buckling and watch him wrap his pale hand around my shaft.

I groan as his movements are slow and agonizingly sexy. The waves of pleasure hit me over and over again as I feel stimulation build up. Hand jobs are shit when it’s just you touching yourself, obviously. He licks the palm of his hand slowly and teasingly, doing this on purpose to get a reaction out of me. I grunt as he rubs both of his hands over my cock, pumping me up in a motion. I let many moans escape my mouth as I watch Casimir do his work before he pushes his blonde hair aside and leans in, placing his mouth on my tip. I practically writhe under his pink lips as I feel a blast of sexual pleasure rush through me. I force myself to hold my cum in so I don’t orgasm as fast as this, what a fucking record. He’s giving me a blowjob, oh fuck yes… YES! My eyes darken in lust as I grip his hair harshly, moving his head so his throat pushes down harshly against my waist. He bobs his head back and forth with his harsh sucking and the force of my hand, taking in my length down on his mouth as he drools all over my shaft, sloppily sucking and licking around with his tongue. I cry out loud, letting out a sensual moan from all the pleasure hitting me at once. No longer caring who is around me to hear and who isn’t, I grunt and buck my hips once more, thrusting in the back of his mouth to make Casimir deep throat before I blow my load over his sweet, pink lips. He flinches slightly, panting and giggling as he squeezes his eyes shut and I let out my warm, sticky cum over his face.

I breathe harshly, feeling a wave of both anger yet lust enrage me. I stare at him, thinking of the cocaine, the drugs, the alcohol. The screaming on the floor, tearing my hair, all for him. All for him, all about him. Knowing what I truly want to do, I swallow hard, pushing away all sorts of fear and gazing at him with a cold expression. “You suck dick like a little fucking whore.”

“Yes.” He breathes, patiently looking up at me. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Sluts like you have a lot to make up for, huh?” I grab a fistful of his hair harshly, watching him wince slightly out of surprise—only making my cock twitch again.

“Oh, please…” He murmurs softly, looking back into my eyes lazily as he breathes heavily, attempting to lick the drops of cum over his chin. “I d-don’t have an excuse anymore to see you again… I just want…”

“You want me?” My eyes flicker over his as my grip loosens. “Is that what this is…? You can’t get away from me, can you? Like a moth drawn to flame…”

Casimir’s cheeks burn a deep red out of blush as he answers, “if you want me, I want you too.”

“The things I could do to you, Casimir…” I mumble, letting go of his hair and stroking his jawline gently, rubbing my thumb alongside his chin and admiring the features of his face carefully. “You’d never know… God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Lancelot…” He blushes again, nibbling on his bottom lip teasingly.

“There’s just something about you I noticed since the day we met…it hasn’t even been that long, has it? Truly.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Yet here I am, wanting you more than ever, even when we seem just like strangers to each other… Tell you what… Tonight, I want you all to me. I want you to open up to me, and I want to memorize each bit of your skin and that body of yours… I want to…” I place my index finger between his lips as he sucks gently out of response, all while maintaining eye contact with me. “I want to not only put that good mouth to use but I want to please you like crazy, now more than ever.”

“What do you want to do to me?” He asks back quietly, slipping my finger out of his mouth as the saliva drips off of it, mixed with cum.

“I want to hurt you, Casimir.” I answer, distracted by his pink lips. “I want to make you feel good with pain… Isn’t that what you want?”

Casimir looks upon me greedily, filled with a sort of hunger as he lets out a soft breath, panting—his tongue showing as he nods eagerly. “Make me your little bitch…”

“Careful what you wish for…” I trail my finger down his bottom lip as I reach into the pocket of my jacket, finding its way through a small plastic bag and digging deeply into the crushed power of the cocaine. “If you’re up for a little fun, it’ll please me…” Slipping my hand out of my jacket, I smirk at him. “Close your eyes, Casimir.”

“Mm.” Without another word, his eyelids flutter shut.

“Now tilt your head back, you’re going to love this…” He does as I say, slightly cocking his head back as I place my fingers up to his nostrils, pressing upwards. “Snort. Come on.”

Taking a deep breath, Casimir snorts heavily as the cocaine sifts through his nostrils. He coughs for a moment and scrunches up his nose before taking a deep breath—his eyes snapping open.

He blinks at me lazily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he peeks down at my fingers. “That…that was…?”

“Shhh, I won’t be supporting your bad habits, we’re just here for some fun, aren’t we? We just want to have a good time, and this? Oh, this is perfect.” I reassure him, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “How do you feel, baby? This is supposed to make you feel so, so good…”

“I…” Casimir lets out a shaky breath, rubbing at his eyes as I watch his body slowly take in the cocaine to action. “Feels good, Lancelot…I feel so dazed and…everything is… I’m melting away…”  
“Good, good…” I plant a sloppy, full mouthed kiss upon his lips. “You’ll never forget this night, I promise you.”

“Oh yes…” He murmurs, gazing at me with pleading eyes. “Take me, please… Just take me already.”

“Tsk, tsk, patience, Casimir. Or you’ll need to be disciplined…” Adjusting my belt and pants, I lace a hand with his and give it a tight squeeze, leading him back over to the side of my car. “Do you want me to hurt you, Casimir?”

“Yes, sir. I d-do…” He peeks up at me as I run a hand through his soft, blonde locks. “Do whatever you’d like to me…”

“I’m a man of my word…” I mutter, gripping his hair once more before staring at the trunk of my car.

_How am I going to do this without killing him?_

“Ah!” With one swift movement, I slam the side of his head against the car door, causing him to cry out and yelp before he slides down against my car, clutching the side of his temple which begins to trickle and ooze with blood.

“How was that?” I breath heavily, feeling my heart rate speed up with arousal at the sight of his blood and changed perception of pain.

Casimir hiccups, tilting his head up and looking over at me, giggling quietly. “Can’t…can’t feel anything…”

“That’s it alright…” I grab at his hand, helping him up before opening up the back door of the car. “Come on, get back in here. This is where the real fun begins.”

“Yes, sir…” He crawls in obediently as I slap his ass, shutting the door behind me and getting into the passengers seat. “Look at you, doing just as I say, putting on a little show in the parking lot… That’s awfully confident if you ask me.” I glance back at him, resting my arm upon the car-seat.

Casimir lays sprawled out and gazes back at me with a half smirk upon his lips, slipping his hand slowly into his sweatpants. The blood upon his forehead has dripped down to his neck and shirt, beginning to dry up on the side of his face. A bit has gotten into his blonde hair, staining it crimson.

“There you go again.” My eyes darken with lust as I watch him touch himself through the thick cloth of his pants. “Take that off and play with yourself for me, the entire car ride. I want to see this.”

“O-oh yeah…” He nods slowly, sliding his sweatpants off of his hips as I gaze at every part of his body, watching him grasp his cock within his hands, touching his shaft and beginning to stroke himself. I lick over my lips as he rubs his tip with his thumb in slow circles, continuing to jerk himself off faster and faster. He slightly raises his hips up as his breathing speeds up and I watch his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure as he lets out little moans and groans.

“Perfect, don’t stop until we get home. You hear me?” I turn around, glancing back at him through the mirror as I click on my seatbelt and start up the car.

“O-oh yeah, s-sir…” He gives a little girly moan which only further amplifies my erection. I grit my teeth and ignore my will to get in the back seat with him and fuck him senselessly, attempting to remind myself of being patient for what I have in mind at home.


	8. Nepenthe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casimir wakes up to find himself chained up in a dark basement with Lancelot standing right before him. Confused, naked and shocked from what his lover has to say about himself, Casimir realizes the darkness Lancelot has used towards him for kindness may have been a lie after all as he learns what has crept into the mind of the one who claimed to love him most, and keeps him in chains for no eyes but his to see. He realizes their kinky, BDSM relationship has only gotten more intimate, and filled with lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has strong, graphic descriptions of drug and alcohol use/abuse, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, BDSM, heavy sex, violence, swearing, and more! WARNINGS APPLY! 18+ only!

_**November 13th, 2018.** _   
_**Lancelot's Point of View.** _

"Have you ever thought about it seriously? Considered it at least?" He asked, sitting with one leg crossed over the other next to me, raking a hand through his tousled, blonde hair. "It might help you know, depending on what you get."

"And what am I supposed to get?" I replied back, unmoved. "Sympathy? Reassurance? A huge medical bill filled with unnecessary medications?"

"They can do more than try to relate and write you depression meds." Brad sighed, shaking his head. "You will see things the way you look at them, Lancelot. If you look at a psychiatrist as a ray of light, some sort of hope to become better again, then it will do nothing but help you. If you look at it as a pity party, it's going to do you no good."

"I didn't need you to tell me all of that. I already know, but I can deal with my own demons by myself."

"Sometimes it can be hard to wrestle them, I could help if you let me; if you told me what was going on in your head."

"That's something I wish I could do but something I've also promised not to do. I'm sorry. I just need to keep my own thoughts and feelings to myself for a while."

"Whenever you're ready, brother."

A sharp inhale and pained memories hit my skin like a whip as my eyes snap open. I'm pacing the basement like a madman, one hand on my temple rubbing it thoroughly from a throbbing headache, and my heart practically leaping through my chest with adrenaline surging through my veins. I can't even tell myself if I'm doing what I feel is right, or what my mind tells me is right. Nothing! No, nothing! Nothing makes sense anymore, I always fuck up. I always do stupid shit and here I am, night after night, just questioning myself. But it's so simple, isn't it Lancelot? This is who you are, who you were meant to be. You think for a reason, oh put your mind to good use. There are many means, so many, but it's people like him, just like him, in case I need someone to put a blame for.

I growl under my breath, pushing the rubber curtains aside harshly and entering the dark engulfed half of the basement, flicking on the greasy light switch as I lean across the old doorway. I gaze at Casimir before me, chained up to the wall with heavy, new chains and shackles locked around his wrists and ankles, holding him against the wall. Duct tape over his mouth as a small trickle of blood now becoming dry remains on his left temple, and his head dangles motionlessly as he still remains unconscious across from me. The sight makes my muscles clench as I take a shaky breath, staring down at my boots. Around me in the room remains an old metal tray with a smaller plastic tray on top, left from when my parents passed away as another piece of useless "furniture" we didn't do anything with but toss away in the basement. Its purpose now is to hold everything that represents me; knives, scissors, a scalpel, tongs, a leather whip, a wooden pad, a velvet riding crop, a red ball gag and nipple clamps. Of course, while some of these are essential, others remain there for the purpose of being stored somewhere. It would be so unnecessary to use things that would make a mess, and for no good reason, right?

A bucket full of fresh water to my right, next to an empty bucket, a drawer filled with empty containers and old glassware next to the wine cellar, and compartments along the walls and upon the ceilings for the chains to hold well and steady. Taking a step closer to Casimir, I glance inside the plastic tray and see my reflection gleaming upon the side of the scalpel; well cleaned and sharp as ever. Looking at myself, I can imagine and feel everything that went through me the moment I saw this boy, which might as well very much be a mistake, an accident, or something I made destiny because I did the approaching for the most part. There ultimately now remains no harsh feelings and nothing of anger left at the moment. What I feel is a bit solemn and content, yet some shame and disappointment on my end. I knew something like this was too good to be true, how could it not be? Did I really think it would be me out of everyone in the world to hit a jackpot like this? To be the perfect lover and just make sweet love until dawn every day?

To sip wine from a glass filled with diamonds and walk down a spiral staircase in my bathrobe, gazing at my lover enjoying his breakfast? Such a life came with luxury, and other things I couldn't afford, like trust, or time. Especially trust. If I can't trust myself and my brother barely can, why does it make it right for someone like Casimir to trust me? I hate being so abrupt, but I assume people talk about me in ways that would infuriate me if I knew, so I tell myself it's best I know I don't have flaws, but I'm one giant flaw myself. Casimir? No. He's the exact opposite of that. Someone as delicate and fleeting as him to enter my life can be nothing but a sign of misfortune and death. I'm no fool, I don't want to play that role. There is no walking out of this situation now, but was there ever since we first met? Since that first heavy and wet kiss we shared? My overthinking might have just led me to a potential relationship, but with Casimir, such heavy and lustful desires cannot be shared, and I will never be pleased. So, I must please myself.

"Nnn..nrrgh...ugh.." I hear soft, pained grunts coming from the boy as I immediately look up, taking a step back. He sways his head back and forth before grunting again, shakily breathing and blinking several times down at his own naked body. He murmurs something incoherent under his breath before squeezing his eyes shut, inhaling deeply, and slowly looking up. I know I'm the focus of his vision now, and it shouldn't take long before he realizes the whole scenario… "L-Lancelot." He croaks softly, almost as if he was in a dream-like state. "U-Ugh, I'm cold, I'm.. I have a headache." He murmurs, leaning his head back against the wall.

_Aftermath of the cocaine, of course._

"Shut up." I whisper to myself, hoping he heard in some way.

"A-ah...my head, i-it's pounding...and…" He swallows shakily, gazing at me.

"Shut up, cum slut. " I say a little louder this time for him to hear, clenching my fists and staring at them as they quiver.

He remains quiet for a moment except for his heavy breathing as he slowly shakes his head, attempting to move and roll back his shoulders before letting out a loud cry of defeat, pulling on his chains. "L-Lancelot!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" I shout, approaching him angrily. "Don't you hear me?! Don't you understand?! Just shut up! SHUT UP! You fucking whore!" I scream, clutching my hair in a seething rage and pulling at it, my eyes looking at him scornful filled to the brim with boiling anger. For that moment, I pant heavily to catch my breath, swallowing my spit down and staring at Casimir who remains quietly before me, breathing softly as his eyes adjust to my figure. There is a look of fear in his baby blue eyes as he blinks, glancing over to the shackles on his wrists as he exhales slowly and shakily. I watch him as his throat tightens and he forces himself to keep a straight face and his tears back. "You k-know, it's people like you," I point a finger in his face, "that make me do things like this. It's because of you, I'm like this. You just feed it! You do!" He flinches, his lips curling up to a pout as his eyes water and he looks down with shame and confusion, completely unaware of his surroundings and the matter at hand. I sniffle deeply, taking a step back and covering my face with both my hands, breathing hotly against my fingers and rubbing down my cheeks. A silence fills the air as we both remain quiet for a minute or two; I gaze down at the tray to my side as I notice out of the corner of my eye that Casimir has closed his eyes and blinks repeatedly, attempting to blow a piece of hair out of his face. I harshly push a curtain of his hair behind his ear and scowl at him, grabbing his face forcefully and tilting his chin up to face me as his eyes widen as his breath suddenly quickens.

"Now you listen to me, you better not be upset. You better not be scared. You should be grateful someone like me took you in here. Trying to give your dominant blowjobs in the parking lot is kinky and well enjoyed, but a slave at your level isn't gonna make it up there if you can't listen to me." I snarl, letting go as he yelps softly. "You're gonna have to work your way up to the top and earn my trust." I pause for a moment, "and vice versa if that's what's going inside your head right now." I point over at my head, poking it. "You really thought things were gonna be this easy, didn't you?"

"No." He surprisingly speaks back to me. My eyes widen as I furrow my brows in frustration, raising my hand and backhanding him across the face harshly. He cries out in pain and winces; his cheek immediately flaring up red with my handprint.

"Did I say you could fucking speak?!" I growl, narrowing my eyes. "You need to be taught some discipline, another reason why you're down here in the first place!" He looks as if he wants to say something momentarily and bites down on his lip, his tears that had pooled up in the corners of his eyes are now dripping down his reddened cheeks slowly. The sight of them immediately softens my angered expression as I sigh deeply.

"Listen to me, Casimir. If you can play things gentle and quiet, then nobody will get hurt, and everything will be taken care of. You will be mine either way." I look up into his eyes. "Do as you're told, don't do what is against my rules, and only ask questions you don't know the answers to. Can you do that? A boy with a brain that only thinks and begs for cock should be able to comprehend that much." He nods slowly in agreement, sniffling. "Things are gonna be quite different around here." I murmur, making my way towards the tray and watching Casimir whine and flinch at the sight of the objects. I raise my eyebrows, shaking my head slowly. "No, if you're obedient and don't try anything stupid, none of these will have to be used." I think my words do him some justice as he stops squirming around as much. I gaze inside the plastic tray and purse my lips in a moment of decision. I could do absolutely anything I want with this little cum slut right here and right now, and who's to say we don't have all the time in the world? I stop my thoughts for a moment, feeling a tang of anxiety hit me. The police.

Glancing back at Casimir, he opens his mouth slightly and breathes softly, looking at me with hopeless eyes and an undying urge to say something. I nod, giving him the signal as he begins to speak, "i-is this a game? I like games…"

"I wouldn't say it's a kinky night if I plan on doing this for quite some time. I like the idea of being a game." My eyes trail down his perfect, smooth, naked body. "I think you're going to be here for a long, long time, so you might as well make yourself feel comfortable. And in no way or shape am I mentioning hours."

My tone fades into a murmur as I run my thumb alongside the lines of his jaw. "I mean most likely weeks and weeks on end. I think you'll have fun. I'll take care of you, my little pet."

He breathes. "What if I suggest I h-had something completely different in mind...?"

"Well please enlighten me then, Casimir, because I really have no idea what you're talking about." I sigh in annoyance, moving away from him and to the wine cooler.

"I thought you wanted a relationship...!" He squeaks out, his throat tightening.

"I did!" I snap, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey from the second compartment of the cooler before I make my way back into his viewpoint. "I knew this was coming all along and it was only a matter of time until you'd make me."

"I'd make you...?" He sniffles sadly.

"This has nothing to do with me but everything to do with you." I work off the top of the whiskey bottle, holding it tightly. "One can only dream of doing so many things to a vanilla cum slut such as yourself. I think you've got it all wrong."

A tear drips down his reddened, rosy cheeks. "That's what this is."

I scoff, raising both my brows as I pull up an old, rusty chair and sit a few feet in front of him. "Making assumptions is only going to hurt your feelings, and that isn't what I'm trying to intentionally do here perhaps intentionally, although that's up to you and however your emotions want to play that out. I never lied to you, don't be ridiculous."

"I just wanted some closure, that's...that's all... I..." He swallows hard, sniffling harshly.

"And here's your goddamn closure!" I extend my arms out widely, exclaiming. "Your closure is me telling you I didn't lie to you. Why would I? Of course, I love you Casimir, I do! I fucking do! Why else would I be keeping you locked up in here if I didn't love you?!" I imbibe some whiskey, licking my lips and agreeing with him. "If you keep talking like that I'll give you something to be in pain about." I grumble, taking another swig of the bitter liquor as it runs through my lips.

"This is how you show me you love me?" His eyes widen slightly as his tears stop. "This..? What we're doing right now?"

"Yeah, it is. So, what?" I put the whiskey in between my legs, holding it still as I look into his teary, blue eyes. "If you ask me.. It's all your fault."

"My fault." He repeats with a croak.

"Your fault!" I point a finger, resisting the urge to taste the liquor again. "It's people like you who get in my way and take all of my attention and fuck me up like this! You fuck me up! Especially when I'm trying to get better again, you twinks come to me and talk about love like I don't know what is is, and you love to fuck. Well this is my way of showing love to you when I'm broken and in the worst spot of my life. I'm not going back there, Casimir! I'm not! I don't wanna fuckin' see a doctor, or a psychiatrist. Not that I don't have the money or the goddamn insurance, it's all a scam to me! It's all fake. I can give myself--hell, Brad can give me sympathy for free. If you want, we can throw me a little pity party right here and right now. Trust me baby, I've been through this and countless referrals before. It's not gonna work on me, and neither is your sweet little voice telling me to 'get better soon'. It's not. I'm not going to get better if you make this any harder on me! You have no idea what's going through my head right now! Say the same thing about yourself but make sure I give a shit first!"

I shout, almost shaking in anger as his eyes are as wide as saucers now, listening to me rant intently. "You thought there was a lick of 'normal' in me when we met? Huh? While Brad was the favoured child of the family before my parents died, I was the weird kid in my neighbourhood exploring my sexuality and watching porn every night before I went to bed. I got bullied, I had no friends, and everyone I loved around me fell to illness or stupid divorces and petty family drama. Things only began to get better when I pretended to be like Brad, hanging with people I hate, doing shit I could never be interested in even if I tried. I didn't wanna be some kind of outcast and I tried to fit in. You know what that got me into? I got split apart when I wasn't really a part of anything after all. I'm left all by my damn self and nothing makes sense to me when I'm not fucking your sweet little asshole, sipping my favourite drink, or my nose is red from the powder. You got that?" I breathe heavily. "Nothing is normal about someone who hasn't been able to get into a proper relationship. The second you awakened down here you should have forgotten the word 'normal'! That's not me, and I will admit that." I cross my one leg over the other.

"I-I know that" He tells me softly, "I know. I understand. You don't have to y-yell anymore or tell me again, I know this. I-I think you and I both know w-what's going to happen now..." He struggles to keep himself calm.

"You really think I'm just going to let you go when you want me to? I thought I said I was making the rules around here." I roll my eyes.

“Someone will come look for me though, e-eventually…? Whether I like it or not? My parents--"

"Your parents don't exactly know you have a gay, kinky lover that's keeping you in a basement." I roll my eyes in annoyance. "Like hell they will. They gotta figure out how you got in this mess in the first place, and trust me, before they do, I'll make sure nobody finds you in here. Ever!" I grumble. "The walls in this basement are thick as ever and are soundproof, so if you want, you can scream all you want and screech and throw a little hissy fit, but not even the rats inside the wine cellar are going to hear a pin drop, much less your whiny little voice." I stand, taking a longer swig of the whiskey and kicking the chair aside before I slam the whiskey bottle down onto the metal tray. "And if you want, by all means, try to squirm and thrash about but the more you do, the more those shackles are going to dig into your wrists and ankles and bruise 'em. So if you want to get comfortable and even get out of those things, you will shut up, you will be a good boy, and you will do what I say. Do I make myself perfectly clear?!"

"Y-yes!" He whines. "B-but--"

"The more you scream, the more you waste your own time and breath, and when it comes to sucking me off, you'll find it's not so pleasurable on your end if you waste the energy in your throat." I scowl, grabbing a fistful of his blonde locks. "Now if we're gonna get anywhere, I'm going to extend these chains so you bend over and show me that nice asshole.”

"I-if that's want you want.” He breathes, eyeing me as I head to the side of the chains, hitting a small switch in a compartment with my foot as the chains extend enough for him to turn and bend over, resting both of his hands against the wall.

"We'll see about that. You know what you're supposed to do, now be a good little pet and do what you're told..." I run my finger down his back as he shivers from the cold touch, moving it all the way down to his ass. I spread him, spitting on my fingers and gently stroking through—getting him moist and lubed up.

He moans quietly, unable to keep his mouth shut as his breathing hitches with each slow movement. “Mm—I, I really like that…”

“I bet you do.” I slick my finger in slowly before spitting down again, smacking his ass and continuing to stretch him. He whimpers like a little girl as I roll my eyes, throwing off my belt from my jeans and positioning my cock to his entrance. “It only gets better when you’re a good little slut for me.”

He looks up at me hesitantly before a wave of confidence hits his eyes and they light up as I grasp the sides of his hips. He takes a deep breath in before a slow smile curls up on his lips as he nods, and I slide my length into him slowly with a quiet moan escaping my mouth.


	9. Chapter 9: Sybaritic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot and Casimir are in a passionate, needy relationship they both want as their bond grows closer. Casimir begins to understand and think, and he mistakenly forms his trust for Lancelot who clouds his mind with affection and love–something he's incapable of giving and doesn't want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire work is going to be re-updated at the moment with random fictional dates to add into the story, some flashbacks, and a few tweaking when it comes to grammar and spelling. So many grammatical errors that I found! More chapters will also focus on character development, such as flashbacks or old events. Check the dates in the beginning for where the story may take place! Different perspectives and points of views are also around and gives a different look onto the chapters. Of course, it'll always be noted when a chapter is "background knowledge", as in specifically focusing on developing a character based on their past, present, and future views. Sometimes there are chapters dedicated to characters too. To clear up some confusion about character development, although it's basically set in stone and explained as to how a character may be this and that, such as Lancelot being a psychopath, there's definitely a difference in character development and psychotic episodes gone through rather than just saying a character is this, and leaving it at that. Hope that clears some confusion up, this work will have many chapters far before it's over, and a lot can focus on how the character's became who they are, as a normal story usually goes. As always, the same warnings apply every time that are listed on this work. This is a mature, adult read, 18+ only! It has graphic depictions and all the warnings on this work always apply to each chapter.

_**November 14th, 2018.** _

_**Third Person Perspective.** _

It was clear in this moment that Lancelot really didn't know the difference between right and wrong. To him, the things he wanted seemed outrageous but somewhat simplified in his head. Could it really be wrong? Even if Lancelot was enjoying it so? If Brad never finds out, then how can it be wrong? The only thoughts that went through Lancelot's head were impure and filled to the brim with kink. He didn’t know how Casimir felt and in the heat of the moment where Casimir’s pink asshole would clench around Lancelot’s cock—he didn’t care how he felt—at least in the moment.

Lancelot threw his head back slowly, letting a groan to escape his lips as he squeezed gently onto Casimir’s hips, guiding his cock back and forth into his ass. He felt Casimir’s cum drip down from his balls and over to his ass where it mixed with his spit and own cum, sending him waves of immense pleasure. Lancelot couldn't help but moan quietly, half opening his eyes and peering up at Casimir who squeezed his eyes shut and took Lancelot’s dick in without a word. Ambitious for someone who had only had sex once, but watching pornography helped Casimir pick up a few things; as embarrassed as he was to admit it. Lancelot thought he was looking at a hell of a view, seeing his perfectly fuckable boy with his ass spread before him, sliding back and forth and taking the length of his dick. He thought he could go on and on like this forever. It just seemed too good to be true.

The fucking had turned from slow and sensual to sloppy and at a quickened pace. Casimir's cum was oozing off of Lancelot's length as he shoved his dick back in over and over again. Lancelot let out a cry and moved his head forward, eyes snapping open and grabbing a fistful of Casimir's hair. Casimir let out a soft grunt of approval and placed both of his slender, pale hands on the cold, basement wall once more and held on tightly.

"F-Fuck, fuck! Casimir…" Lancelot grunted, quickly taking a step back as his breath and heart rate quickened. Casimir blinked in surprise and watched as Lancelot gave a shaky, final breath and groaned deeply and loudly, letting his hot, sticky load squirt all inside Casimir’s ass. Casimir flinched for a moment before he closed his eyes and gave a small smile, letting all the warm cum drip down his ass cheeks. He opened his eyes before facing Lancelot and swallowing hard before letting out a little giggle, pulling on the chains. "You're a little slut. You really are." Lancelot breathed, ruffling his hair back and glancing down at his dick before looking back at Casimir. "Look at all that cum all over your ass. I bet you like it that way… Dripping and oozing in my mess."

Casimir blushes furiously.  "I… I really liked it. I did…" He breathed hotly, feeling his cheeks heat up from the blush. "I'm not so naughty, am I?”

"Fuck." Lancelot murmured, feeling a bit embarrassed at the words as he grabbed a clean towel off from the side and dried off his member. He didn't answer Casimir's question.

"When are you gonna untie me?" Casimir asked quietly, not sure if he should speak up as loudly. Lancelot ignored him again, finding his pleasure filled happy mood to be souring immediately at the question. He figured if he didn't answer, Casimir would eventually shut up and understand. "Lancelot?"

"Yes?" Lancelot spoke in a dark, breathy tone as he pulled up his boxers and jeans.

"What now?" He peeped.

 _"How did he hurt you?" The silence abruptly broke. Casimir's eyes had drifted into space as he swallowed hard, staring down at the metallic, cold table before them. He fumbled with his bruised, pale hands before looking up with a frightened and nervous expression upon his face._   _The detective bit down on the corner of his lip, feeling almost guilty for asking the question to the obvious, broken boy before him. "It's okay, Casimir. I promise you'll never have to see him again. You're safe here. Just please tell me, how did he hurt you? What did he do to you?" Casimir took a deep, shaky breath before staring blankly at the bruises upon his hands. He swallows the hard lump within his throat and tries to calm down his breathing as the tears return to pool in the corners of his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, facing the detective with all his might--unable to make eye contact out of fear._

 Casimir wanted to speak in a serious tone, but his thoughts and words were distracted by Lancelot slowly moving towards the rotten, wood drawer by the other end of the basement shrouded in darkness where the dim, blinking light did not reach. Lancelot hummed quietly to himself, rather annoyed with his submissive speaking out abruptly and loudly. He blamed himself for the most part for not teaching strict enough discipline; that or Casimir was as vanilla as he claimed when it came to sex. Lancelot felt his fingers inside the drawer and wrapped them around a cold, leathery object. He didn't even bother to glance back at Casimir's expression, only harshly squeezing onto the riding crop he had tucked away for so long before he slowly pulled it out, holding it out in front of him so Casimir couldn't see from the back. Casimir swallowed hard, squeaking slightly to stop himself from asking any more questions that could piss Lancelot off. He still felt turned on, but for the most part fear was running through his veins like a warning sign. He didn't know what to think of the obscene kinks and ideas that ran through Lancelot's head. 

 _'Did he always want to do these things…?'_  He asked himself, staring at the cold, dirty basement floor before swallowing down the lump in his throat.  _'Sounds fucked up if you ask me, right...?'_  His mind was clogged with reoccurring thoughts and ideas. Was Lancelot drunk or high? He could barely take him seriously for some reason--a tugging feeling in his gut wouldn't let him break down or begin screaming hysterically. He was still strangely calm and he had no idea what Lancelot gave him was cocaine just a few hours back. He could only wonder where he would be and what he would be doing had he not met this strange guy he had a sexual attraction and desire for. 

"Calm down now, princess." Lancelot turned towards him, covered within the darkness of the basement. "I have something you'll like. I got it just for you."

"Lancelot…” Casimir spoke up, his voice queasy and tightening as he felt his heart begin racing again at the unknown object in Lancelot's hands. He suddenly stopped his thought, blinking and staring up at a brooding Lancelot; his eyes darkening as he relaxed in his chains. "I...I don't know about this...why did you have to tie me up like this...?"

"We're just trying new things and having fun now, aren't we? Relax a little and let yourself go."

_"Please take your time, I understand how hard this is for you." The detective spoke once more. He secretly wondered to himself if this was the best place to be questioning him. The boy looked starved of proper physical affection. He might not react well to it now. "You can start wherever you'd like."_

_"He never did hurt me. He didn't."_

Casimir remembered right then and there what his first thoughts were when he walked into Lancelot's home. He had been secretly inquiring to himself what the income of a man with a house so large, yet a shitty car to his brother was truly making. He knew Lancelot was rich, but not just in wealth. Lancelot was also rich in his tastes, and most of those spun to sex. Casimir himself thought about the kinky sex Lancelot might be into. He wondered about BDSM before, and not just through and about Lancelot. He thought it to himself, wondered about it, and watched dozens of BDSM based pornography before. What Lancelot was attempting to do to him wasn't news to Casimir. Not anymore at least. Casimir blinked at the thoughts as Lancelot raised his brow. He quickly realized that Casimir was thinking about something, and held onto the riding crop behind his back a little harsher. He too was now curious.

"BDSM." Casimir spoke, feeling a heavy blush hit his cheeks as he gazed at the chains tightly restricting him. Lancelot's eyes slightly widened as his harsh, cruel eyes had become a bit softer. "You're into this shit."

He nodded towards Casimir. "Is this something you like?"

"I watched videos…a while ago." Casimir admitted in embarrassment. "A lot of pornos…" His eyes met up with Lancelot's before speaking again. "Never in person but...I...I'm interested in it, it's just..."

"Mostly roleplay at this point." Lancelot began to move away back to the drawer, making sure to conceal the riding crop carefully. "Nothing to worry about, baby..."

"Bit of a reach." Casimir swallowed hard, chuckling nervously. "I see what you want. What you're into… Why didn't you just tell m-me before?"

Lancelot blinked in confusion, quickly stuffing the riding crop away and shutting the drawer. "About what I wanted, huh? I never had the chance."

"I want what you want...this roleplay." Casimir almost immediately regretted the words coming out of his mouth. Although he was saying these things and having this conversation, he still couldn't entirely trust Lancelot. For the love of God, they had been having sex for a few days now, and although the two had immense feelings for each other, Casimir needed something stern to differentiate whether Lancelot wanted a sexual, loving relationship that was a little hard-core, kinky, and weird, or if he was just a sadist who was keeping Casimir down in a basement. Maybe Lancelot's answer would settle that for good.

"I don't know about that, but I like the way you think." Lancelot began to approach Casimir slowly. "BDSM is…" He grinned, shaking his head. "It's amazing, in more than one way. I think you'll definitely like it. You'll like it just as much as I love looking at your sweet ass tied up like this."

"So, you're into the ropes and chains kind of business..." Casimir blushes again. "And sex."

"I go with the flow to see what I like, but I have a clear image of what's inside my head." Lancelot crossed his arms. "Now tell me, do you have work anytime soon? This morning?"

"This morning?" Casimir furrows his brows in confusion. "W-what time is it?"

"It's five AM." Lancelot spoke plainly. “What? You have plans for today?”

“Not plans, just things on my mind.” Casimir admits sheepishly. “It’s pretty dumb, it’s not important.”

"Not dumb. Tell me about them." Lancelot relaxes, slowly removing the chains off of Casimir.

"College and whatnot…" Casimir shivers at the touch of the cold metal's clasp. "The admissions…moving out, my job…"

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Lancelot raises a brow. "All of this? I think you're lying to me. I know you love your job, but you make shit pay. How can you even think to afford tuition slaving away over cake?"

"But…"

"But what, darling?" Lancelot chuckles, "you know I'm right. Even the man who works with you—Luca—you can tell how much he hates it. Sometimes I wonder if he's just there for you."

"Do you know Luca?" Casimir stumbles naked into Lancelot's arms, holding on for balance as he's finally freed from the chains.

"Fortunately, no. Brad knows him though, not really that personally." Lancelot's eyes peer down at Casimir who trembles slightly at the cold, now feeling embarrassed with Lancelot's curious eyes searching over his body. "I want you to tell me if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable."

"He'd never..." Casimir practically gasps.

"If anyone, for that matter. Come…" Lancelot grabs the fluffy bathrobe on the floor that he used to bring Casimir with downstairs. "Get all snuggled up in this, I think you deserve a treat. You've been so good."

"Sex?" Casimir peeked, suddenly losing all interest in any kind of sexual intercourse.

"No. Something better, in your opinion. Closure." Lancelot shot him a ghost of a smile. Casimir felt his breath fade away within his lungs. Lancelot wasn't a sadist locking him up in a basement after all. He was a loving and caring man capable of love. The two may have differences and different thoughts of love, but it was so compatible for Casimir. With that heart aching smile, Casimir felt every inch of pain and all of the bad melt away from his bones. He grew trust from the look in Lancelot's eyes-quick that it was. He smiled back, lacing a hand with him and happily following him up the stairs of the basement. He seemed like a happy, young guy holding hands with his boyfriend. A tang of excitement hit over him as he realized the closure was going to be more romantic than any explanation they've had. Things had come around so quick, but Casimir was secretly waiting for all of this. Now he could have a smouldering boyfriend who would fuck him good; cum in his ass and love him at the same time. Finally, he wouldn't have to worry about money or gas for his shitty, used car. When he was drunk, he could lean his head on Lancelot's shoulder. Lancelot could be his one way ticket to affording college, and then Casimir would really be living the dream. _'Closure._ ' Casimir thought to himself as the two walked down the hallway to Lancelot's bedroom.

 _'He wants something from me. I want this, I really do.'_   A strange sensation altogether, but Casimir felt he could trust Lancelot. The kinky ideas of whips and chains, punishments, cock sucking moments and cum all over his face seemed deliciously sexy. This is what he wanted and wished for all this time since he walked into the bar. All of these ideas just seemed so exciting to him as he sat down on the bed and crawled into Lancelot's lap who embraced him and gazed up at him with a smirk.

"Oh Casimir, what am I going to do with a boy like you?"

"I already know the answer to that." Casimir's breath hitched as Lancelot grazed his thumb gingerly against his cheek. "I know you love me and you want me. You crave me, I can tell from the way you act around me."

"Can you be so certain as to what I want?" Lancelot chuckles.

"What we want." Casimir squeezes his hand. "Remember?"

"Right…" Lancelot blushed, gazing at his sweet, pink lips.

"Will you fuck me?"

"I'll make love to you." Lancelot nodded, feeling his bulge respond to the excitement. "Is this what you want? I'll do anything." His breath quickened as he laced hands with Casimir. Casimir's face was red and flushed with embarrassment as he clutched onto Lancelot.

"I…I have such strong feelings for you, please don't take it the wrong way."

"I want you to understand I'm not intentionally hurting you. I want to pleasure both of us." Lancelot pushed a curtain of Casimir's hair behind his ear. "Do you like the idea of chains? Ropes? Restraints and being spread? Butt plugs? Dildos? Vibrators?"

"They're all sexy…" Casimir's body ached in response. "But...you have to let me know of these things first... No surprises." He could feel himself growing hornier and hornier at the thought. Thankfully, his night robe was fluffy and thick enough to cover his erection Lancelot might notice at any given moment.

"Good, good… You can have it all. Whatever you need, whatever you want. You don't even have to work at that fucking pastry shop anymore if you want… I'll take good care of you."

"I'm…yours…" Casimir spoke softly. "Then I'm all yours."

"Say it again." Lancelot's eyes darkened as the sickening thoughts returned to his head. "Nobody else will know you exist anymore. Who cares anyways…? You can just be mine. Nobody can come after you if you're with me. Say it, Casimir. Say it."

"I want to be yours. I'm all yours." Casimir's eyes fluttered shut as he joined Lancelot in a lengthy, wet and full mouth kiss-the most passionate the two had ever shared before.

Lancelot moaned in his mouth in response, pulling him down on the bed so Casimir would be straddling overtop of him. The two kissed so passionately and needy, especially on Casimir's end as if it was his last meal. Casimir let out every reach of love and affection he could possibly get. Only did Casimir realize with Lancelot and his gaze, his smile, his touch, and his cock thrusting inside of him was how badly he had been starved of affection all of his life. His boyfriends were never serious, they were just high school flings who never took anything into consideration. That's why they never lasted. Casimir felt more comfortable with Lancelot and accepted him in a way. Things would be better off this way. Lancelot's mind was a total collapse for Casimir. Little did Casimir know and expect through the sweet affection that it was just a cloud-a fog-a mist that would surround Lancelot's mind until his sick, fucked up fantasies returned. This only gave Lancelot more power, and in the back of his mind throughout the kisses and soft touching was the basement and the chains that belonged on Casimir's wrists and ankles that only remained in Lancelot's head.


	10. Probity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks enter just how Lancelot and Casimir's life spread apart and unknown from each other were, only a year ago. With Casimir's sweet and innocent personality comes a life of constant struggle, and Lancelot's comittment issues continue to haunt him as he allows dark and sick thoughts to spread and affect the rest of his mind. While the two choose to suffer by themselves and both refuse help from family or others, this chapter is an insight into the lives of the characters before they met, adding into the addition of character development. Just how badly do Casimir and Lancelot need each other? Or does it only seem that way to Lancelot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some nice flashbacks and past events! As always, check out the dates at the beginning of the chapters to show old memories, the past, and flashbacks before present day. I always like to switch POVs to get a sense of what the other characters are thinking/feeling about the same situation or different parts of their life. As always, every warning/tag applies. They've been updated as the story has gone along so far. This is a mature read with explicit/graphic content! 18+ only!

_**April 3 rd, 2017: Flashback.** _

_**Casimir’s Point of View.** _

_‘Okay, alright. Take it easy.’_ I mentally tell myself, swallowing the lump down in my throat as I stand in the corner of the bank, staring down at my wallet within my quivering hands. A part of me writhers up and shrivels like a piece of shit whenever I face my own wallet. Something about bills, taxes, overdue fees for school and rent for the bakery shop which I share with Luca hits me all at once. I don’t have the best bank in the world and I’m definitely not qualified for a credit card with the financial state I’m in. I wouldn’t trust myself with anything other than a debit card. I’m much too afraid to carry cash in my back pocket  in some sort of internal fear that I’ll get mugged or robbed either on the street or the comfort of my parent’s house. You can never be too careful these days, especially for someone like me… I’ve already had a mugging scare before where I was ruthlessly shoved around in an alleyway I thought would be a smart idea to try to get home through since my curfew had already gone passed–just before I turned twenty.

_“Look at this little piece of shit, look at how fucking terrified he is!” The two men threw their heads back in laughter, occupied with the horrid teasing and insults rather than the pathetic ten dollar bill lying in the bottom of my wallet._

_“Can’t even begin to wonder how old he is…” The other man took a step towards me as I shuddered, whimpering and backing up against the cold brick wall behind me. “Look at his face.” He reached out with a black, leather glove and gently caressed the side of my face before dragging it down and away from me, smirking mischievously._

_“Baby face.” The other’s eyes went up and down me as he scanned my clothes carefully. I was no idiot, I could tell he was judging my financial state from my own clothing._

_“Cheap mall clothes.” The other man scoffed, shaking his head. “This little fucker doesn’t have any money, does he?”_

_“Please leave me alone.” I managed to squeak out. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have anything.”_

_“Don’t bullshit me sweetheart. Empty those wallets and give me whatever you have.”_

This was well before I actually got a debit card of my own. I used to carry cash all the time–well, at least the cash I kind of had at the time. I’m still thankful for not having anything else valuable and still holding a cracked old smartphone at the time when they shoved me over the floor and kicked the shit out of me, snatching my wallet. I found it thrown halfway down the block with the small portrait of my mother tossed into a muddle puddle which I fished out and managed to dry. Although it’s muddy and scraggled due to the water, I still keep it in my new wallet and it wasn’t a surprise to  me that they had taken my ten dollar bill which may have been a blessing since they could have killed me, or if I had something more valuable or even more cash on me, it could have been taken first. I think of this incident whenever I go out to the bank or the public is crowded, especially around here. It’s hard for me not to. It was so recent.

A part of me doesn’t care at the same time whether they took ten dollars or a hundred. I secretly wished that night they would have killed me–and I still do. I wish they would have put my miserable, broke self out like an animal and left me to rot there. Those criminals who took the last ten dollars I needed for food and instead had sleep for dinner with, and the thugs chasing me down the street whenever they’d come downtown. I was “baby face”, and by my actions and a few prying eyes of my abusive, sleazy ex-boyfriends–people knew I was gay, and some never wanted to accept that.

I sniffle, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as a few tears slide down my cheeks. _‘I seriously hope nobody can see me right now…’_ I can’t help it. Even the topic of myself makes me severely depressed to think about. All of my life I’ve been running away and somehow making it like some sort of starving creature, but I still can’t escape my own thoughts and problems. No way in this hell I can escape my financial situation either. It’s mocking me and my goals to get into college which may not even guarantee me getting a job right away either. Money was almost the root of all my problems. My parents gave me a roof over my head and fed me, but they didn’t have fancy investments like real estate or something to scoop up extra cash from.

We were an average family, but we never had the newest model of technology. We always slowly made it and were the last to have anything, and I guess I follow up on this. My parents have decided to retire and are packing up their things to move to Hawaii. Luxurious and amazing, I know, but a sandy beach and mojitos don’t sound like a college admission or much of my life’s ambitions. Anywhere else has extremely high admission standards or it’s too expensive. Or both, for fuck’s sake! I’m stuck and troubled here. I know my parents understand how I feel, but even I know deep down I have to stay here, in this piece of shit city of Detroit in the middle of Michigan. I save up for the rent of my future apartment, tuition fees, admission fees, fucking college tuition in general, and half of the rent dedicated to X&O Bakery shop which is somehow still giving me life. It would never be fair, and I’d never forgive myself for giving an entire month’s rent to Luca even for one month. I’d feel so guilty that I would think about paying him back and I’d never find the spare five hundred dollars to do so.

Did I mention I still have to feed myself and get furniture for my apartment? At this rate I should be living in a cardboard box. _‘I don’t even know how to cook…’_ That’s me, Casimir Darius–miserable and broke. I don’t know what I’m doing with myself besides trying or attempting in an absolute pathetic way to live the American dream. The only thing happening for me so far is getting into gay bars because of my appearance and rich men paying for my drinks before disappearing off into the night and never appearing again. _‘I think I can afford my own mojitos. I wish they’d pay for something useful, like my tuition.’_  They confuse me.

I head over to the nearby ATM booth and cautiously gaze around to make sure no prying eyes are watching me as I enter my pin number in while sliding my card inside. I nibble nervously on my lip, going through the screen options to get to my chequing and savings account to see how much I really have. As much as I hate to admit this, I have to use a good portion of my savings account to make sure I don’t go into overdraft on chequing, or so I can actually pay off my fees for the month… Some of the money from my savings account is a warm allowance from my parents–something I don’t get any more since I’m pretty much a full-grown adult. Seven hundred and twenty-five dollars is what the ATM tells me. I give a soft sigh of relief, feeling my stomach gnaw at me knowing I couldn’t just add all of that into my savings account or treat myself. _‘Those mojitos are starting to become expensive. I think next time I’ll treat myself to a tall, iced glass of water at my own home.’_

Okay, so five hundred goes towards the rent… I go through some configurations that I’ve set up to pay off my bills and outstanding fees for through my account and transfer exactly five hundred dollars. _‘There. Rent payed off for the month.’_ Now I have two hundred and twenty-five dollars left… My hands fumble with the buttons as I add five dollars to my savings account out of fear of having absolutely nothing left. One hundred and fifty for the groceries. Seventy for the gas. Nothing left. I bite down harder on my lip, drawing blood as I watch all of the money practically trickle away from my bank account. Everything I’ve worked so hard for from this month and some of last month has gone to all my necessities with only five dollars thrown into savings. I wish I could put at least fifty… Eighty dollars in my savings account pretty much seals my day as I take my card and sadly put it back into my wallet. I shove my wallet into my messenger bag and rub the tears off my eyes quickly to make sure nobody would notice anything.

I raise my head up and stagger awkwardly out of the store, remembering how Luca had told me he wished he could buy a bigger store and even hire a few other people. I like the idea of having other people working with us, since my hands ache and smell like baked goods forever since I’m the only cook. I spend countless hours baking and twelve-hour shifts are the norm for me. It’s worked in helping me stand keenly on my toes. I’m better at managing time and working with accuracy now. I can apply icing better onto cakes than I could a few years ago. I could probably even bake a cake with my eyes closed since those are such easy yet popular requests.I think my role is hard, but Luca manages all of the finances and orders. He makes cake appointments, plannings, completes customer orders and cleans the place. He’s the one buying cake stands and the supplies, so more money is coming out of his pocket. That doesn’t bother him. He and his older sister live together and she graduated from Yale two years ago. She has a well-paying job and makes money off putting rent on their summer home in Calabasas. I’m pretty sure Luca can afford to be a “baker”. Sometimes I wonder if all he really wanted to do was open up a shop of some sort.

Either way, he’s the reason why I’m not on the streets starving, yet I think about it sometimes. What would happen if my parents did move out, completely gone from Michigan and out of my reach, leaving me here with overdue fees from my (future) rent, tuiton, car insurance, gas, and groceries? What if I was truly drowning in all of these fines, yet their allowance wasn’t good enough for me? What if Luca sold the shop and gave me half the money that would easily run out in a month? I would be hopeless. I already made a desperate, yet horrible plan if something like that would happen. I can’t let myself go to the slums or become homeless, so I’d slave away at doing something else… A minimum wage, shitty job in Detroit wouldn’t even get me close to paying the rent, so I’d have to go for something more…desperate. Prostitution.

I’d most likely have to sell myself to strangers just to get by, and if I already don’t feel like I don’t have a purpose and I’m rotting inside–it’ll amplify the feeling even more alright. I shake my head at the ridiculous and outstretched thoughts as I walk back to my shitty, used car; the only expensive item I couldn’t have afforded myself had it not been a present from my parents when I was eighteen. It really shows us something about finances. I sit in and lock the doors, leaning my head against the back of the car seat and let out a deep breath. _‘Going to the fucking bank shouldn’t be this anxious, Casimir.’_

I think to myself. But it is. It always is. It’s always gonna be like this if I know I won’t have any money left. The bank is not a haven for people like me.  _‘I can kiss those mojitos goodbye for a long, long time.’_ I secretly hope to myself another weird, rich man will appear and offer me a whole pitcher. I could use the punch in the face. I sniffle, clearing my nose and starting up my car; buckling up my seatbelt. I drive off into the streets of Detroit, heading to the gas station to fill up half a tank and then head home and hit the sack. It’s been a long day, and I may be running low on money, but I’m not on sleep.

_‘I really hope things get better. I hope somebody just whisks me away. I could use it right now.’_

_**April 5 th, 2017: Flashback.** _

_**Lancelot’s Point of View.** _

“You’re not ever thinking of getting a normal job?” Brad scoffs quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. I raise a wary brow at him, pursing my lips at the thought.

 _‘Not right now at least. Does dealing drugs even count as a job?’_ I mumble something incoherent under my breath as we wait in line at the bank, as tedious as it is on a goddamn Tuesday afternoon. Of course, Brad is referring to the ever-growing wallet of mine packed with dollar bills that needed to be deposited in my account and added onto my debit card. He’s talking about the credit card I pay off two weeks before the due date with a limit of twenty thousand dollars on three cards. He’s talking about the fact I could afford a better car, but I haven’t found something I click with just yet.

I’m a drug dealer. I can easily pull in forty thousand dollars a month, and I know I won’t get caught. I’ve got powerful friends in powerful places and acquaintances like none other. Sure, it’s not the best job to be working with a title like that, but it’s one of those things that clicks with me and I benefit through the cash and a sweet line of coke through my nostrils. I’m not an addict, but you could call me troubled sometimes. That’s something for the rough occasions; I’m a tough individual. I don’t let things get under my skin except for my own thoughts, and I don’t form addictions easy. I haven’t had a cup of coffee pass through my lips in years with that caffeine going on. I have a degree in business and I know I’m perfectly capable of getting a “normal job”, but for now, I’m going with the flow of things, and in this case the flow would be the cash in my back pocket.

“Maybe.” I reply, loosely shrugging my shoulders. “What’s the hurry?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.” He chuckles. “Don’t you get tired of it all?”

“That’s another story.” I wave him off, refusing to have a long conversation about dealing drugs in a public bank of all places. He really makes it seem deeper than it is. It’s no different from a shady figure in a dark alleyway asking you to try something. It really isn’t, but it is illegal. Ignoring Brad’s eyes, I fish my phone out of my wallet and lower the brightness of my screen before opening the details of my bank account. I peek down at my phone to see a rough amount of sixty thousand dollars, knowing it’s been a busy month. I smirk to myself, looking at the deposits before thinking of how crammed my wallet is at the moment. I could expect another ten thousand in the bank today; I haven’t even counted the bills in my own pocket.

“Rich boy.” Brad mumbles and I know it’s a jab at me because I’ve been making more money than him since the beginning of time. He must have seen my phone screen. Of course, it’s not fair to compare that to a college student who went to school a bit later and will most likely come out with a hefty debt of those amazing student loans. Then again, he’s going to actually be making a difference in society while I’m the exact opposite. His memorization skills are much better than mine when it comes to terminology, and with biology as a scientific passion on his side, Brad’s goals in life are to work in a laboratory for the rest of his life, trying to find the cure for cancer, orphan diseases, and get into pharmacy and help create the most common medication we know. Smart kid–I recognize this. I know he’ll do just fine.

“Hey, who’s buying all your condoms when you’re at school?” I give a snarky reply back as Brad chuckles nervously, nudging me and I know it’s to lower my voice which makes me laugh.

“I can’t even guarantee my own privacy right now!” He grins, “renovate the house or something and move into the basement.”

“Oh yeah? So you can bring all the chicks in the house that you want?” I smirk, moving a step up in line. “I don’t wanna walk in on that shit again.”

“My bad.” He winks slyly. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind moving out. I totally could crash at my friend’s places, or any girl I want.”

 _‘Any girl he wants.’_ I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head. Probably not _any_ girl he wants, but Brad is extremely popular for being a ladies man anyways. “Or just a regular dorm room. You can afford it.”

“I’m waiting for you.” He pats my shoulder, raising his chin up proudly, “until you move in with your special somebody, we’ll be sticking together until the end. Who knows? Maybe you’ll give me the house and get your own place. Either way, I totally see it coming. I mean, it has to, right? That’s why I keep telling you to stop lurking around that depressing basement so much.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I grumble, turning to face the front. “You’re really gonna turn this into some romantic lecture, aren’t you?”

He giggles, clasping both of my shoulders with his hands. “Come on man, there’s gotta be someone.”

“There isn’t.” I reply briskly, feeling the playful smile fade off my face immediately. And there hasn’t been–not for twenty four years anyways. Deep down I wanna actually believe what Brad is saying. Whether its him who moves out or me, it really doesn’t matter in the end. Brad purposely chooses not to settle down, which I know will bite his ass in the end. Once college kids graduate, they’re looking for something more mature and serious, and that doesn’t include getting wasted and partying all weekend. I guess these are things Brad has to learn. I’m secretly glad the line moves up again and is finally done with as I approach the woman at her section of the desk and reach into  my wallet, pulling out the shoved, thick envelope that contains a solid ten thousand dollars for the beginning of this month.

“I’d like to deposit ten thousand dollars into my chequing account.” I speak in a calm, yet quiet voice so no curious ears would hear.

“Sure thing, sir. May I have your debit card?” I nod, slipping it out of my wallet and handing it to her as she scans it on her computer and takes the envelope, getting busy. Brad stares in amusement as if he’s watching this go down for the first time, and I tap my fingers against the wood of the desk in impatience. Part of me wouldn’t even mind if Brad had a girlfriend he was planning to marry in a few years anyways. She could move in if she wanted to, I wouldn’t mind. I’m not the greatest at making friends, especially when it comes to girls, but as long as she doesn’t go poking her nose where she shouldn’t and touching my shit, I think we could all live together just fine.

“Successfully deposited sir, may I have your signature here?” She hands me a pen, sliding me a statement paper.

Without answer, I skim over the details before nodding to myself and adding my signature at the bottom, taking back my debit card and collecting my things before gesturing Brad to follow me out of the bank and back to the car. In any case, I’m not sure about bringing a guy over to move in with me. You would think for somebody who spends so much time meeting different and new people wanting drugs or clients, and even going to gay bars and strip clubs, I would actually find somebody. It’s my own fault for being so goddamn picky, but the problem lies deeper than just having high standards. I’m not something special myself, and if I decide to picky, I better bring something besides money on the table. My looks could be one, but I’m gay, and my standards fly to men. I’m not interested in chicks liking me or finding me attractive. I’d prefer a virgin, someone who has a cute charm to them and is innocent-like. Someone shy and quiet, yet charismatic when he opens up to you. Somebody into the kinky shit that I am would be a bonus, but I can’t be too sure of that. I have a specific thing for blondes. I’d like to make somebody mine for good.

“I have a good, new career idea if you’re up for it.” Brad struggles to cover the joking grin on his face as we get into my car.

“And what’s that?” I mumble, focused on keeping my wallet intact within my back pocket.

“If you were really desperate to get somebody on your dick, you could always act in pornography.” I would have taken his opinion seriously had I not turned to see Brad hollering in laughter, hitting the car door and throwing his head back in glee at poking fun at my non-existent sex life.

I chuckle, trying to get my hopes higher as I start up the car and pull out slowly from the parking lot. _‘He’s right you know. But then you’d have to be on the internet for all eyes to see, even if you’re getting all the dick you want.’_ With what my therapist and Brad like to call “mental instability”, my job, and my existence in life in general–have all come together to create something fucking horrible called commitment issues. I have no idea how much time I’d need to spend with somebody or bond with them in order to start a real relationship, much less be in front of cameras and various lights to shoot a porno. I’ve never had the luxury of calling somebody my boyfriend or lover before, and watching all those gay pornos really don’t pay off when you’re jacking off to a video in your room all alone. I crave something more physical and intimate, and for that, I guess I need to “fall in love”.  _‘I need to settle out the battles going in my mind before the concept of love even reaches me…’_ How bad could it be? Very bad. Fuck it, I’ll stick to moving in and constant fucking over a relationship any day. I’m married to my work. I need to find somebody I can spoil as they sit on the tip of my cock. I need my own little submissive that nobody else can touch. I need to make them all mine; belonging to me on their knees, looking up at me with pure eyes of innocence.

I think of tying up their sweet, smooth wrists with faux leather cuffs and chains in the basement. A little bondage is always sexy, especially topped off with blindfolds and a red ball gag–my favourite. A riding crop trailing around to set a hot and steamy atmosphere as my hands travel around and feel at what’s mine. Strawberry flavoured lube and rough anal until he’s nice and stretched out in front of me on all fours upon my bed. Legs sprawled and spread wide on the bedsheets as his hands grip the sheets when I hear those moans of my name begging for more. Cum on the pillowcase all over his cheeks as I let him pleasure me for a treat. Oh, the fun we could have… Could it be called love, eventually? For me, it’ll always a be a love and needy passion to fuck. There’s nothing I love more than being in control and having power–especially when it comes to someone else’s pleasure. And with all this money, how could they not want me? Brad and I aren’t far apart when it comes to appearances. He can have the girls, and her cutest brother can be mine. How about it? Maybe for me, the way I experience love is through hurting others. Why not turn those faux cuffs into hard metal and leave a few bruises on the skin? Take out a whip and crack it against his sweet ass and spank him with my bare hands until he cums on my lap. I’ll even control his orgasms and won’t let him experience any until I’m pleased. He can writher in pleasure and be patient until it’s his turn to get a treat.

I’ll force him to masturbate and cum over his own hand, licking it up while he looks up at me. I’ll teach him to obey my commands and take out my favourite marker, writing “whore” over his chest, because that’s what he’ll be to me and nothing more than just a cum slut. With passion and needy fucking always comes punishment when we need it. I’ve always appreciated forms of discipline and wouldn’t mind teaching them with force. Sure, a few slaps in the face here and then before rough paddle spanking and forced masturbation. Blue balls for a few days will be nothing compared to being chained up in the basement and left there for six hours. Getting constantly cummed on, slapped and thrown away is just all part of the experience. Add a collar onto his neck and slip a chain while pulling him around on his knees like a slut. Ah…and my absolute favourite–cross-dressing. I’ll buy him the cutest pair of pink panties I can find. He better learn to love lace because he’ll be wearing a lot of it. A few stockings, the sharpest high heels and I’ll make him approach me and beg to tear the lingerie off of him until I fuck him into orgasmic bliss.  _'Is that even a thing?’_ All I know is that the closed and shut down thoughts within my mind may not be revealed at the moment, but that’s exactly what love sounds like to me. Love always comes with pain, and that pain comes directly from the palm of my hand. I’m the one in power, after all.

We always define love the way we fucking experience it, don’t we?


	11. Hozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brad and Casimir meet after the last events as Lancelot is out for work and out of Casimir's sight. Casimir learns to warm up and make a new friend through Brad who he finds playful and sweet. He feels relieved and at ease, but finds himself for the first time questioning the future of X and O Bakery, and Luca–his co-worker. Again, Casimir's emotions get the best of him but through the flashbacks and events of his past come to show what Casimir has done since then, how he has matured, and now shows what he really wants in his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update on Casimir's point of view! More plot and events to happen next chapter as always. Little delayed because this chapter was hard to write, but a great perspective on Brad and Casimir's new, blossoming friendship. Good to see Casimir's perspective on friendships! All tags/warnings apply at all times as this is a mature read, 18+ only!

_**November 15 th, 2018.** _

_**Casimir’s Point of View.** _

_“We could make so much money off of this place, you have no idea!”_ That’s what Luca had told me the day we both sat down at the table and decided to start our own mini business. Compared to the other “small businesses” in Michigan, ours was a speckle on the canvas. Two people running a bakery about the size of two, good living rooms. I bake and decorate–Luca handles the rest. At the time it sounded like such a great and exciting idea as it usually is to anyone who dreams of creating their own business, but it never is that easy–especially in the beginning. X  & O Bakery Shop has now been open for a solid three years, coming up on four soon, and all of Luca’s life savings went into opening and managing that one shop which most likely has no future when it comes to chains. Most of our customers were those seeking birthday party, small time wedding cakes, special occasion cakes, and anyone who wanted to pick up a batch of fresh Greek yogurt muffins or croissants. You can imagine how embarrassing it is for me to admit to anyone besides Luca and my parents that my only talent is baking! Though I’ll have to admit, I like the look of a simple little apron. The job is busy and takes up a lot of my time, but without it I’d most likely be on the streets. I was barely scraping by last year, but now that my overdue fees are _finally_ payed off for, I can save maybe a hundred dollars or so a month without worrying. The problem isn’t panicking over not being able to afford a bus pass anymore, but more of a _you-still-can’t-afford-college-tuiton_ which will haunt me as long as my pockets are empty. How else would I have been able to afford mojitos again? I sit cross-legged on the plush couch of Lancelot and Brad’s home, knowing Lancelot is at work and left early in the morning, leaving me sprawled out in warmth and love within his bedsheets. I woke up embarrassed to know Brad, who is a college student (hah hah…) would be coming home soon since his classes were cancelled for the day. Hopping off my ass to quickly shower and make myself look acceptable instead of a fucked mess, I noticed the cum stains on my shirt and thought to myself that hopefully Lancelot wouldn’t mind if I did his laundry and mine with it, and also snatched one of his oversized dress shirts for myself.

I like the way the white fabric hangs down my shoulders. It’s more of a snuggly fit than anything. It’s only one size bigger than mine–a medium, but it must be a very loose fit. _I hope he doesn’t mind!_ I chuckle, covering my mouth as I look at the aesthetic, polaroid image in my hand of Luca and I standing next to each other, grinning ear to ear as we hold our first business statement declaring our first month of rent is good to go, and X and O Bakery Shop is ours. It’s one of my treasured photographs that remind me of both the good–finally starting a new, meaningful chapter in my life work wise, and the bad–barely being able to scrape by and feeling the worst that life can offer.  _Sometimes I feel like Luca never understood everything I went through for him. Sometimes I feel like he didn’t even want to._ Setting the photograph down, I pick up the next one within the pocket of my messenger bag which is one of my parents and I all standing against the wall, beaming happily. _A perfect family photo!_ I blush, trying to imagine Lancelot next to my side before quickly dismissing the idea inside my head. _Ridiculous is what it is._ That’s too fast. Would he even want to meet my parents at this stage?

I bite my lip at the thought. _Hey mom and dad, this is the guy I’m kind of falling in love with. He’s smoldering hot and he ties me up in his basement and fucks my mouth sometimes._ Holy shit. _But I don't think he means to hurt me, does he? He's into some weird, kinky shit, and I'm still pretty vanilla...even after all that gay porn, it's still pretty hot._ I secretly hope Brad isn’t around the corner watching me as my cheeks flare up in pink blush. Even the kinky ideas are starting to sound better than ever.

“Huh.” I can’t help but let the disappointment come out my mouth as I pick up a third photo, a bit older than the others. It’s been bent a few times but it looks like I’ve tried to restore it to it’s crisp state. It’s the last polaroid found within the depths of my old, pink wallet, and of course it’s an image of my ex-boyfriend.I feel the tips of my ears and the back of my neck burn with sudden heat from the embarrassment of the image. It’s the two of us sitting on a hammock–I’m on his lap and he’s got both arms wrapped around me and his chin upon my shoulder. We both look joyous, but the vibe of the image is something else entirely. He and I never worked out. I think I always knew deep down we were polar opposites. I’m all for “opposites attract”, but we barely had anything else in common. I think it was a small crush that had a good potential of becoming a relationship due to physical attraction, and from that the seed I mistakenly planted became something else. Cute, romantic dates and soft kisses became arguments over the dumbest, little things possible and then became outright, huge fights. We would never agree on anything. Our families weren’t fond of each other and we had little support from our friends. Of course, it was easily decided he was the problem, and I knew that as soon as he began to beat me and abuse me to release his anger… I shake my head, crumpling up the polaroid within my hands and shoving it into my pocket. I’ll have to dispose of that properly.

“Hey, hey, pretty boy.” A deep, yet slightly unfamiliar voice rings out as I look up–my cheeks flushing red in embarrassment to hide any personal polaroids out in front of me. Brad approaches me with skin tight, dark washed jeans hugging his waist, brand new, clean, black converse shoes and a blue and green, button-up plaid shirt. His hair is tousled and laid back, and he has a smirk on his face as if he knows something I don’t. His appearance causes me to do a double take. I realize from the shape of his jawline, the creases in his eyes when he smirks and smiles, as well as the altogether shape of his face and eyebrows stunningly resembles that of Lancelot’s. If I saw Brad somewhere dark and distant without hearing his voice, I might have mistakenly run to him thinking he was Lancelot…  

“Hi.” I squeak out, pushing back a string of loose hair. I sound much too shy and constricted.

“Brand new babies, what do ya think?” He moves his ankle to a sharp angle, snapping his fingers and pointing down at his sports shoes to show me.

I chuckle, nodding. “Very nice. You went shopping today?”

“Last night.” He smiles at me, tapping his feet upon the fluffy carpet. “While you were here.”  _‘I was here.’_ I blush deeply at the idea of Brad somehow finding out from either me purely being here or from Lancelot telling him we had sex last night while he was home. Instead of a proper response, I blink at him, slightly in surprise that he ever knew. He looks at me quite innocently before turning and heading to the kitchen across from me. “You like staying here?” He pops a question.

“Yes.” I blush again, rubbing my reddened cheeks. “It gives me a sense of independence, if that makes sense.”

He opens the fridge, replying back again, “you don't live with your parents anymore, huh? Sounds like fun…” I nod, watching the back of the fridge as he grabs a pitcher of cold, orange juice out, closing the fridge and heading towards the cabinets. “Huh. Well if I knew any better, I’d say just about any minute now Lancelot is about to ask you to move in.” He bursts out laughing, and had it not been his joking behaviour and laugh, I would have taken it seriously.  _‘I guess I would have liked to as well…’_ “I’ve never seen him click like this with a person before.” He continues, grabbing a tall glass that looks like it’s meant more for ice cream or a margarita. “It’s like he’s finally made one meaningful connection and bond with somebody, and that somebody happens to be you.”

“I’m flattered…” The blush hits back twice as hard, stinging my cheeks.

“But uh…” He pours orange juice almost to the brim before stopping, “what I really meant to say was I’m sorry.”

“For?” I blink.

“For the whole drunk thing.” He waves his hand, gesturing off before grabbing the glass carefully. “A few nights ago when I bumped into you on the street. That was you, right?”

“Yes.” I swallow hard, feeling anxiety quickly hit my insides.

“I’m sorry, man.” He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply and heading towards me into the living room. “Dude, I was so fucking shit faced, and I fucked like six chicks that night. I mean, I was completely living the life but I didn’t even have a joint or anything…” His voice turns into a mumble as if that’s something to be embarrassed about. “What I mean to say is…” He sets his drink on the coffee table next to him as he plops down on the bean bag chair, “I’m sorry for acting like a complete douchebag. I must have said some weird shit. I didn’t mean to scare you. It just popped up on my mind now that you’re here and I can actually talk to you. It’s even different for me.” He chuckles, covering his face and shaking his head. “I can’t get used to have someone in here besides my own brother.”

“I understand.” I crack a ghost of a smile. “You were having too much of a good time and I happened to be in the wrong place.”

“I’m almost always drunk.” He points at me. “You can expect it a lot, but I think I was trying to joke around with you anyways. I didn’t mean for it come off as harassment.” He grabs his orange juice, taking a cautious sip and looking into my eyes.

My smile grows wider at the sudden tone of kindness. “You need not to worry. I forgive you.”

“Thanks, man.” He winks. “I owe you one. Stay for as long as you want, we got a guest room going on too.”

“I prefer to stay in Lancelot’s room sometimes.” I say, before biting down on my lip almost immediately. My response came out like I was some sort of whore who just preferred to snuggle and smother myself against anything related to Lancelot.  _'That’s what is it is though, right? Right…’_

Brad’s eyes grow wide as he bursts out laughing, slapping his thigh. “That’s some kinky shit. Nice. You deserve it! Nobody else has been in there before. At least, not like this.” He shrugs.

“As long as his friends don’t find out.” I laugh nervously.

The contagious grin fades off of Brad’s face as he swallows down his next gulp of orange juice. “Lancelot doesn’t really have friends, though.”

“Huh?” I blink a few times. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious.” He winks. “Nah, he really doesn’t have friends. I mean, Thomas, the bartender down at that gay bar he says he met you at is kind of his friend. Thomas doesn’t really make friends if you think about it. Sure, he makes drinks for a living, but that money is going to good places. He’s saving for his daughter’s future college tuiton. He has kids. He has a wife at home waiting for him. Lancelot doesn’t have any of those things.”

“Would he like to?”

“That I wish I could say I knew, but he’s so dense and closed off all of the time. He shuts me down immediately when I bring up the conversation of marriage or anything similar to it.” He raises his hands up in surrender. “Now, I know you’re probably wondering the same about me! Until I find a girl I can settle down properly with, I’m not planning on making anybody my wife. Plus, I just started college. You?” I feel my entire world collapse inside of me as the word “college” rolls off of his tongue. A harmless, simple word asking a question destroys me entirely, knowing how empty my pocket remains, and how I was eligible for a discount on a bus pass because with the growing price of gas, I can’t afford to drive that much anymore.

“Hopefully someday.” I croak, turning my head to look elsewhere and force a fake smile. “College can be expensive.”

“And hard.” He mumbles, sipping his orange juice rather loudly. “Lancelot has a degree in business.” As soon as I look at Brad in interest of his words, his entire expression changes from telling me a fact to complete regret. He looks down at his orange juice instead.

“He does?”  _‘Lancelot has a business degree?! What?! Incredible…’_

“He does.” His smile returns as he nods. “He’s kind of smart sometimes. He really likes business.”

“So, he works in business. An office, maybe? Headquarters somewhere fancy?”

“Something like that. He doesn’t tell me much.” He says before extending the orange juice to me. “Want a sip?”

“Sure.” I giggle, taking the glass gently from his hands and taking a nice sip from it before handing it to him. The orange juice is fruity, simple, but thirst quenching and divine.

He looks up at me. “Stick around. It tells me Lancelot has got some sense of romance in him. He’s never dated anyone in his life.”

“Huh.” I say, inaudibly.  _‘Nobody? Nobody at all? Even I have dated… Maybe he’s saving himself or something.’_

“Who knows? Maybe my brother is a romantic son of a bitch.” He laughs. “He needs to get his shit together in my opinion.”  _‘I think he has shit together…’_ “You’ll make a cute couple. Do you wanna stick around some more or maybe sleep over again tonight?” He snorts.

“I wish I could, but I have work in an hour and a half.” I smile weakly, glancing at my wrist watch.  _'I really fucking wish I could stay here. This is that one day I’d rather not be at the bakery. I’m finally being able to meet and talk to new people like Brad.’_

“Oh yeah?” Brad stands slowly, grunting and stretching out his arms. “You want a ride to work?”

“It’s alright, really.” I turn down his offer, standing and taking my white, messenger bag. “I’ll bus.”

“Are you sure?” He raises a brow, looking down at me. “The bus can be musty and crowded at this time.”

“Isn’t it always?” I burst out laughing at the accuracy. “It’s good for the environment though, and I don’t wanna trouble you with gas or anything. Trust me.”

“Sure thing.” He shrugs plainly. “Hold up, I’ll get the rest of your things.” He turns on his heel and makes his way down to the hallway and over to Lancelot’s room. I take a breath of relief and mentally thank myself for cleaning up the sheets and doing the laundry this morning. I’m pretty convinced with Brad’s playful attitude and personality that nothing could really go wrong, but it’s still embarrassing and dirty to leave cum stained sheets lying around. He comes back momentarily, holding a black wallet and a varsity jacket in his hands with a soft smile. My face burns crimson to know they’re both mine. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m getting too used to being here like I live here, do I? “Don’t forget these.” He hands them to me as I thank him, slipping on my jacket and almost hurling my wallet into  my messenger bag.  _‘Nothing to see in there.’_

“Thank you for everything, Brad. See you soon. Tell Lancelot I say hello and hope his day went well.” I tell him with a wave as he opens the front door for me.

“Hey no worries, kid. I got it. Come over anytime. It can get lonely in here sometimes.” He leans against the doorway. “Be safe.”

“You as well.” And with that, I make off down the street and over a block or two for the nearest bus stop. I’m secretly happy I haven’t relief on Brad for anything to make me seem needy or pathetic of any kind. I’m warming up to him faster than I thought. Huh. It must be the Cadwallader genes. I haven’t felt like this before anywhere, to be honest with myself. Not at the bakery, where most of my time is spent, or with anyone else. I don’t have to surround myself with tons of people to feel something. I’m already accepted by those around me now. It’s crazy to think that time can’t exactly judge how much you can bond or connect with someone… Bonding with Lancelot, that is… From the moment I locked eyes with him, it really felt like I’ve known him for years. He seemed to be more than just a stranger who payed for my mojito and helped me get back on my feet after a drunken time at the bar. He never really had to do any of those things to me either, and it just makes my heart so warm and makes me feel glad deep down. I think I’m going somewhere with this, and I want to keep it all in my heart and savour it before I decide to do anything else…

I wait patiently at the bus stop for the 117 which will take me directly downtown and stop just three minutes of a walk from X and O Bakery Shop. I show the bus driver my pass as usual as sit somewhere in the middle by the window and look out, watching us pass Detroit in a calm and peaceful afternoon. Embracing Lancelot’s soft scent of expensive cologne wrapped around me like a cool, summer breeze, I glance down at my flimsy wallet and swallow hard, knowing Brad felt how empty it is and how no cards or dollar bills are noticeable inside of it or sticking out.  _‘That’s because there isn’t any.’_ I can’t get the mental image burned out of my mind as I replay fake scenarios of my head to see how Brad might have done a double take or frowned at what he found. How embarrassing… I can’t even keep my personal belongings tight in my bag. Lancelot really makes me forget myself. I breathe shakily and try to relax as I squirm in my seat and try to focus on something else besides disappointed looks and bad, proper impressions. I might just crumple up and die if it was Lancelot instead of Brad. I’d hate to think that they feel the need to help me as if I was some sort of helpless being.

I may not be able to afford most things or make it very well through the month, but I’m glad and thank God every night that I wasn’t where I financially was a year ago. It’s disgusting, and sometimes rather bizarre to think that money could quite literally solve all of my problems. I wonder what Lancelot and Brad would think about that. I bet all Brad felt was pity when he was carrying that wallet. I’ve seen his Louis Vuitton slippers tucked by the door of his bedroom. I’ve seen his Hugo Boss collection. I admit, Lancelot and Brad aren’t ones to show off their wealth as I would expect…because they don’t want to, but I see it. It’s definitely there. There’s always something sexy about a man who knows fashion. I’ll stick to mall clothing. I hang my head low as I head off the bus and walk over as usual to the bakery. I swing open the front door and glance up at Luca who beams happily, and hands change back to a customer carrying two boxes of muffins. They bid each other farewell as I swiftly move past them and into the back room, fighting back tears.  _‘Dear God, not this again, not this…please. I don’t need this anxiety. I’m at work. I wish I was just…’_

I swallow the hard lump down in my throat as I feel the tears sprout freely in my eyes as I slide down against the wall and plop down next to baskets of eggs and stuffed packs of flour. I cover my mouth as hard as I can to muffle out crying and kick the door closed. I burst into tears and sob for what seems like an eternity yet literally a few minutes as my eyes begin burning and aching. I sniffle and toss my wallet across the back room and watch it clank off a shelf and plop down. Seeing it lay there so empty from a different perspective hits me harder than before. Knowing the shitty pay I’ll get again this month will only make me feel worse because I can’t get a better job will hurt even more. Seeing Luca’s face as he opens this door to see me crying _yet again_ will hurt more. As my crying slows and quiets down to a stop, so does the energetic vibe of laughter and the sound of change in the store. Soon, I hear nothing but the cash register click shut and footsteps heading towards the back room. Luckily for me, I wipe all my tears off and remain solemn, huddling my knees and staring down at my shoes. The back door opens and I know it’s Luca who stands before me and is taken back momentarily before he kneels down.

“Casi–“

“Leave me alone.” I look up at him with glassy eyes. “Please, for the love of God just fucking go. You never make me feel any better when you come down here. You know why. I don’t want a therapy session right now, Luca, so please just fucking go.”

The smell of Lancelot’s cologne hits his nose as he furrows his eyebrows at me, looking extremely sympathetic and worried as he bites his lip. I can tell it’s hard on him but not as hard as it is for me. We lock eyes for a moment that drains on forever before he swallows hard and nods shakily. “As you wish.” And just like that, he closes the back door and leaves me to drown with the rest of my misery. We will never relate on the same emotional level or understand each other’s problems as much as we want to. We may be compatible business partners, but we can’t be compatible friends. I know for a fact Luca doesn’t understand this the way I do, and he doesn’t want to either. Sometimes it feels like this job will last forever and I’ll be nothing but mediocre in my days. That sounds blissful and fine until I realize how it really is. I’m not sure anymore about myself or how I want to live my life anymore. All I know is that Luca has no part in it anymore. The only part cakes and baked goods has is somewhere in my kitchen where I can cook it privately without watching my pockets drain and my wage fluctuate. Something is wrong but I just don’t get it. I don’t know for certain if I see this store in my future.

Is my passion ruining my life? I’m trying to follow my heart and the direction it leads to but I don’t think it knows where it’s going either…This is just another ordinary day at the bakery for me.


	12. Commuovere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casimir finds himself back at the bakery with Luca after the events of the night spent with Lancelot with him back on his mind again. Now with Luca picking up on the details of Casimir's new love interest, he begins to grow suspicious of the new and passionate growing relationship, finally coming to terms with himself that he has had feelings for Casimir for years. Hating change and becoming curious as to Casimir's sudden happiness and nights out with Lancelot, Luca realizes harshly that Casimir doesn't even consider him with his mind on Lancelot, and begins to grow tired of the same routine spinning around his financial troubles at the bakery. Lancelot finally meets Luca face to face, realizing Luca has feelings for Casimir too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 is updated after forever! It's been months and months on end with writer's block, but the work is still in progress and this chapter is on more of Luca and Casimir's relationship at the bakery! The update is finally here! More past events and relationships are revealed through chapters, things like grammar mistakes have been updated and half of chapters have been revised entirely. Chapter 7 has been updated and rewritten almost entirely! The New chapters are probably going to be up once a week, but here it is after the very long anticipated wait! Leave a comment and let me know what you think--is Luca better for Casimir or is Luca's jealousy just getting in the way of what Casimir wants? This chapter goes more in depth with Luca's character!

**November 15 th, 2018.**

**Third Person Perspective.**

Even Luca finds himself biting his lip as he peeks his head out to the back, watching as Casimir hums softly to himself, gleefully icing the cake before him. He’s cautious with detailing as he slowly spins the birthday cake around before him, adding final touching of frosting and sprinkles before grabbing a small bowl of melted chocolate. Luca can feel the blush creep into his cheeks, knowing he’s had feelings he even denies for Casimir as well—ever since they opened up the shop together. Luca doesn’t mind at all spending most of his time with Casimir and would rather be doing it than wasting away in his rat-infested apartment to begin with. Casimir was like the little light of hope he loved to see every day he went to work. Casimir would always have the best jokes and the cutest giggles. Even on the worst days, Luca had something to look forward to. His mood could never truly get low with him around.

That being said, Luca was quite convinced he had commitment problems. He kept switching and changing classes throughout high school and being a baker and co-owning his own bakery came as a last minute, spontaneous thought to him. It was the one thing he could commit to because the other option was homelessness. It had already been years on end, yet he never made a move or even showed a little sign to Casimir about his feelings. He preferred to keep them inside of him, because he would either be rejected which would crumble his hopes entirely and ruin the last remaining shred of self-confidence he has, or Casimir would return those feelings and want a relationship—something Luca wasn’t sure he could exactly give back. Instead of lying or half-assing a relationship, Luca keeps to himself, but his fantasies about the blonde twink don’t. They were in the same graduating class and were friends before they began working together, but Luca couldn’t help but feel that most of their friendship had deteriorated into some weird co-worker relationship only at work.

Luca no longer felt very close to Casimir which he truly had no answer to until he heard about this “Lancelot” figure. He had never seen the guy, only heard his strange, very uncommon name.  All he knew was that this Lancelot spent an awful lot of time with Casimir since that was all Casimir could talk about like he was obsessed. It seemed to be the one thing and person that would put a smile on Casimir’s face and lift his mood. Luca knew that Casimir was going to be seeing this Lancelot guy a lot more often, and especially after work. It had changed the spirits of work, but this was the first time after Casimir’s ex that Luca heard about him starting a new relationship of some sort. For some reason, Luca never got to grow to be jealous of Casimir’s ex, and he didn’t care much at all. As a matter of fact, it barely seemed like the two loved each other at all at the time and was mostly one sided from Casimir—always being the hopeless romantic and the most emotional. Still, Luca felt like shit watching who he considered his best friend have his heart broken like that.

“Hey, kid.” Luca’s voice catches Casimir off guard as he drips some of the melted chocolate on his apron, blinking and gasping up.

“O-oh, come on! Sneaking up on me like that?” Casimir let out a little giggle, scooping up the chocolate on his apron with his finger and sucking on it.

Luca felt something throbbing and tugging deep within his stomach at the site, but swallowed down the feeling and ignored it, smiling back instead. “My bad, my bad. You’re always so focused on your work, so I try not to interrupt it too much.”

“No worries. Is our customer in yet?” Casimir chuckles, picking up the melted chocolate bowl again.

“Mm, not yet. She’s either coming in later this evening or tomorrow morning, so we should refrigerate the cake anyways. She’s very picky about details.” _‘Speaking of picky…’_

Luca’s eyes fall to Casimir’s fingertips—his slender, pale and small hands working thoughtfully upon the cake. Within all the dirty thoughts in Luca’s head, he pictures his favourite one—Casimir’s perfect hands wrapped tightly around his cock, jerking him to pleasure.

Luca clears his throat quietly, snapping out of his fantasy as he opens his mouth once more to speak to Casimir. Instead, Casimir raises his head and peeks at Luca, making only brief eye contact, but it was enough for Luca to spot the obvious about him.

 _‘Bloodshot eyes? At this time of day?’_ Luca can’t deny how deeply bloodshot Casimir’s eyes are as if he hasn’t slept for days, been staring at a computer or phone screen continuously for hours, or is high at the same time.

Even though he raises his eyes in curiosity at him, Casimir doesn’t react back. “Cas, your eyes…? What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“What do you mean?” Casimir blinks, self consciously reaching up to touch his face.

“They’re so fucking bloodshot.” Luca knits his brows, “are you alright?”

“What do you mean?” Casimir’s expression slowly begins to grow alarmed. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? Aren’t they always bloodshot at least a bit—”

“Both eyes, extremely bloodshot. Have you…?” Luca pauses for a moment as his once playful smile fades off, replaced with an irritated and concerned one. “Are you seriously high at work?”

“No?!” Casimir takes a step back, putting down the chocolate. “Do I look and act high to you—”

“Cas, seriously. Stop.” Luca shakes his head, interrupting. “What are you on and when did you take it?”

“I said I didn’t take anything—”

“Your nose is red, Casimir!” Luca exclaims, creating a tedious silence before the two. Casimir lets out a shaky breath, touching around his eyes before he spins on his heel, rushing off to the storage room’s bathroom and grasps the edge of the sink, looking at himself within the mirror.

_‘The…the hell?!’_

Just as Luca had said, both of Casimir’s eyes remain bloodshot as if he was suffering from both a massive hangover and lingering off of the effects of something strong. He quickly turns on the tap and splashes cool water onto his face, rubbing at his eyes and blinking over and over again, only feeling them sting rather than anything else. Although he rubs the tip of his nose, he doesn’t seem to notice anything off about it, pouting at his reflection as he sees Luca behind him lean against the doorway.

“Cas, I want you to be honest with me, seriously.” Luca frowns at him as he turns around. “What are you on? Cocaine? Is that what you were snorting?”

Casimir feels tears about to form in the corners of his eyes and quickly blinks to clear his vision, still feeling his throat tighten. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Why the hell are you accusing me of something like this?”

“It’s none of my business, I know.” Luca doesn’t seem pleased at his response, “but you’re constantly on and off all over the place and I can barely keep track of you. So what? Ever since you met this guy at the bar, you come to work and I can still smell mint and mojitos on your breath, you’re hungover or giggling to yourself like a schoolgirl, and now this? It’s obvious you snorted something, come on, don’t lie to me. You know better than that. Cocaine? Fine, whatever. I just don’t want you to bring it—”

“I’m not a fucking kid, Luca.” Casimir narrows his eyes. “And I’m not about to stand here and take your goddamn scolding either. I don’t know what the hell you mean, and I don’t want any part of these ridiculous accusations. Since when did what I do after work concern you so much?”

“Okay, fine.” Luca holds his hands up in surrender, glancing momentarily to the side at the clock mounted upon the wall. “You’re obviously getting defensive about this but look at you. Look at your state, Cas, for fuck’s sakes. What’s happening to you? What _are_ you doing? I’m only looking out for you because I’m concerned for you. You always used to be a one cocktail kind of guy and now you’re snorting cocaine the night before work?”

“Seriously?” Casimir grits his teeth, feeling tears forming back into his eyes.

“We need each other, Cas.” Luca rolls his eyes, sighing loudly and gesturing out with his arms. “We both have to work as a team if we want to make this work. I don’t want you to fuck yourself up over some guy again.”

“He’s different, he’s not like that.” Casimir lets out a little sniffle. “I told you he makes me happy, Luca.”

“Casimir, tell me this…” Luca takes a step towards him to which Casimir’s lip nervously trembles at. “Is he hurting you?”

The tips of Casimir’s ears and the back of his neck burn hot with a sudden realization and humiliation hitting him. He swallows hard, shaking his head slowly. His head begins to pound over and over again, feeling a headache coming on directly to his temple. As he brushes a curtain of his hair back, it takes all the strength within him not to wince in front of Luca, knowing he woke up confused and dazed in the morning with dried up blood all over the side of his face. His nostrils still burn if he inhales harshly enough, and he feels himself on edge yet relaxed at the same time. It feels almost like he spent the entire night out drinking, but with a more pleasant feeling—instead of the same nauseous and dizzy feelings, he only has a headache to accompany him. His body is giving him signs as to what happened, but he _doesn’t remember._

_‘Was I hurt…? No, how the hell could I have been? I was with Lancelot last night. How the fuck could that have even happened?’_

But something deep in his gut tells him he was hurt and it makes him uneasy. “No, he doesn’t. Why do you keep hovering around the idea of him? You don’t even know him yet whenever I bring him up, you talk about him like he’s some sort of disease. He likes me, Luca.” Casimir’s voice cracks as he begins to break down. “He’s the only fucking guy who will give me love and attention, and God forbid I meet _one_ guy who has the same interests as me! One who will actually _pity_ me! Stop talking about him like he’s some sort of sick fuck, he’s not. I care about him, okay?! And stop asking me questions like this, stop talking to me about Lancelot! I don’t wanna talk to you about it, okay?! I swear to God, one of these days I’m just going to tear this thing to pieces!” He gestures to his apron as a tear slides off his cheek and melts into the fabric.

“Oh yeah?” Luca’s expression appears hurt as he moves away from him. “You’re just going to leave what we put all our life savings in to do? Just like that?”

“If I had known I would be crying at the ATM and barely making ends meet, I would have kept my life savings in highschool—at least that would have kept me alive. What’s the point anyways, Luca? You don’t pay me enough!” Casimir wails out.

“So, this is _my_ fault?” Luca scoffs, but his gut pulls at him harshly, knowing damn well he payed Casimir two hundred and fifty dollars less this month for the exact same desire.

Casimir hiccups, shaking his head and moving past him and out of the bathroom. “Leave me alone, please.”

“Well, once you’re not fuckin’ high anymore and want to actually do your job, just let me know!” Luca calls back, taking a deep breath before he throws off his apron to the side, checking at his watch.

He glares at the time, knowing he’s got only five minutes left until his dealer meets him at the back of the bakery. Casimir doesn’t respond to his remark, and he slips out of the bakery without another word to him either. Luca makes sure to carefully close the door behind him a she inhales the cool air of Corktown, rubbing at his forehead to calm him down from the argument he can barely believe he just had.

 _‘What the fuck have I done?’_ A violent urge inside Luca makes him want to vomit everything he had for breakfast out onto the grass, but he holds onto himself and regulates his breathing, trying not to lose himself within the nauseous sensations.

“There you are, I didn’t take you for an early bird.” A husky yet handsome voice breaks out the calm of the early evening as a figure approaches the back of the bakery, smirking at him.

“So, it’s you.” Luca breathes. “We meet after all.”

“I’m the one who will be sending you most of it…” Lancelot replies, shoving both of his hands inside his suede jacket.

Luca grumbles, looking the strange man in the eye. “I was beginning to think you might not show up today.” Luca reaches into his wallet, taking almost his entire paycheck and the two hundred and some dollars from Casimir’s before handing it to him. “Here, just as we agreed. Two hundred and fifty.”

“Perfect.” Luca and Lancelot exchange the money as Lancelot casually slips the stack of bills back into his pocket. “Careful you don’t get any on your breads and cakes now, or are you finished the entire bag?”

Luca forces himself not to scowl at the dealer. “Never you mind about that.” Luca mumbles, staring down at his wallet. “What’s your name, anyways?”

“It’s not important, we’re not here to be friends. Think of it as just business.” Lancelot refuses to answer.

“Now, unless you need something else…?” Lancelot’s eyes scour the back of the bakery building.

“Just one more thing.” Luca replies, facing him. “You said you…have connections and friends within the city. What would it take for you to find someone for me?”

“It depends who it is, I won’t charge since you’re a new customer.” Lancelot chuckles softly. “Who are you looking for, exactly?”

“I don’t know his last name.” Luca admits, annoyed with himself. “But his first name is Lancelot.”

Lancelot forces the fake smile to stay plastered on his face as he slowly nods at Luca. “And why, may I ask?”

“I think he’s fucking with my boyfriend, I just want to know who the hell the prick is, since nobody else will tell me anything. You have anything on someone like that, or?”

“Not off the top of my head, no.” Lancelot lies flatly, looking Luca in the eye. “I’ll inquire.”

“Good, it’s urgent. I want him out of our lives.” Luca is as demanding as ever as he turns away from the stranger, not knowing the man he already began to dislike was standing right in front of him, dealing him drugs.

As soon as Luca is out of Lancelot’s sight, the smile fades off of Lancelot’s face and is quickly replaced by an irritated glare. Lancelot scowls at the brick walls of the building, now understanding deep down to himself who this “Luca” was working alongside Casimir only—that man in the photos with Casimir on Facebook.

_‘Inquiring minds want to know, hmm…’_

It only took everything out of Lancelot for him not to beat the shitty baker senseless at the back of his own store and shove him into a trash bin as Lancelot tells himself to be patient and calm his nerves. After all, Casimir would be meeting him at their favourite little bar, and with how recent the fresh relationship between he and Casimir is, along with a little worry that he might scare him off too soon holds him down as well.

_“I think he’s fucking with my boyfriend.”_

_‘Your boyfriend? You have got to be fucking kidding me.’_ Was this Casimir’s ex-boyfriend that he was talking about just a few days back, or a new fling? Is he bluffing?

_‘He didn’t seem to think much of the whole boyfriend topic… They must obviously not see each other. It can’t be him, out of all people, can it? A man like that with someone as irresistible as Casimir? Unbelievable.’_

To Lancelot, Casimir deserves a hundred times better than that, but the deserved nothing less or more than Lancelot. In any case, the only thing on Lancelot’s mind is a naughty spanking session and questions about who this Luca really is, and why he has his eyes on Casimir as well. It doesn’t bother Lancelot, who is so badly wishing to spend time with Casimir again—missing the taste of his lips over his, the two of them passionately fucking time and time again. It was anything but imperfect.

 


	13. Agastopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casimir finds his troubles from the past continue to linger as his relationship with Luca deteriorates at work, finding himself more stressed than ever. Craving Lancelot's embrace, he's exhausted from his own emotions and meets Lancelot at the very bar they met at. The bartender has his own worries about Casimir as Lancelot takes it personal, hating kept secrets and lies, confronting his lover about his stresses and making passionate promises to take his sadness away. Casimir finds himself ensnared in love with Lancelot and all that he offers to him, giving his love to him with one personal request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13 update! This chapter is a bit more on the romance and emotional side of things as more about Luca, Casimir, and the bakery shop in general to get more in depth within the story and learn more about the backgrounds of everything! Casimir's emotional side is revealed more in this chapter, as well as the feelings he and Lancelot have growing for each other. Casimir finds himself falling in love and the rest of his troubles finally fading in passion, but he wants a promise too. More little romance bits of Casimir and Lancelot is all here, what do you guys think? Leave a comment/kudos to let me know!

**November 15 th, 2018.**

**Lancelot’s Perspective.**

The only one known well behind the name of Lancelot is none other than Lancelot Cadwallader, the twenty-four-year-old twin to Brad Cadwallader—my brother. From the moment the question escaped from Luca’s lips, I already made an answer to myself, and now I’m just thinking to himself how to lay the lie back that I’ll repeat over and over with pleasure until it becomes the truth. I don’t want anyone to look at Casimir and think they have a chance with him. I don’t. Want. Anyone. To look at Casimir the way I do except myself. _He belongs to my fucking eyes only._ The idea of having Casimir around that sleazy piece of shit is a completely different feeling of rage coursing through my veins—a sense of jealousy and disgust all at once. I’d be an idiot to assume even before the events of this evening that this Luca figure isn’t somehow important to Casimir’s life.

All my anger fades as I clutch my margarita tightly, raising it to my lips—legs slightly spread comfortably over the burgundy leather armchair that remains placed against the wall of the blaring gay bar, yet in the middle of all the dancers and right across the bar with Thomas bartending once more. A lingering scowl remains on my face as I place my lips over the edge of the glass, taking a slow sip and enjoying the cocktail as I watch the flashing lights continue on and off as dancers slide up and down poles, some continuing to strip and leaning towards those who watch from the tables. From my obvious sour mood tonight, nothing seems to pull my attention, and even Thomas knows. We make eye contact as I try to keep it friendly, but he knows he’s used to seeing me relaxed and having a good time, not spending the past thirty minutes on one cocktail. Maybe before I met this blonde slut, I could enjoy myself with a sloppy hand or blowjob in the back of the room with one of the strippers or dancers and call it a day, but no part of me wants anybody else but him.

_Good old-fashioned jealousy, of course. What else could it be?  
_

I grumble to myself, forcing myself to focus back on my margarita in order to calm my nerves. Everyday Casimir goes off to work at that fucking pathetic bakery and I can’t believe he enjoys being near that pathetic excuse of a baker. There’s new intents here, and maybe Casimir doesn’t know for himself of what he deserves, but does he know about his new admirer’s feelings?

 _Maybe we would both get closure…_ If Casimir wasn’t thirty fucking minutes late. _He’s lucky I’m feeling patient tonight._

Just as I wrap my tongue gently around the lime piece placed on the side of the glass, I notice the door of the bar open slightly as the familiar blonde hair I’m so used to seeing enters. I gently suck upon the lime, watching him greet Thomas and shyly make his way around all while gazing around. We lock eyes momentarily and I find the little innocent smile of his return as he watches me swallow the lime piece without a wince. I sit up in my seat, gesturing with my finger for him to approach as he does so. The electronic music blares louder than ever, knowing we’re both in the center of the bar surrounded by everyone else. It’s no use to try to speak up to talk to him, it would result in having to shout just to be heard, but we both know the entrance and the back are much more private.

Casimir stands before me as I watch his cheeks flare up pink in blush at my presence. My grip relaxes from my margarita as he reaches for it instead, taking a sip all while gazing back into my eyes shyly. Only now before I can even think of saying or doing something, my eyebrows knit in worry at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, not just mixed in with the events of the other night, but also with how pink they remain and how they lack that same excitement and light I’ve been seeing day after day.

_He’s been crying, it’s very obvious. I always knew him to be the emotional type. There’s nothing more I would like than once to bend him over and fuck him to tears myself._

The only thing I can think at the moment is it’s not because of anybody but fucking Luca. Part of me wants to so badly pull him over into my arms and kiss him until his lips are throbbing and he begs for my cock. I want to fuck him right here and right now on this leather couch until I see him giggle as cum lands over his face once again.

I pull on Casimir’s arm, leaning him closer to me as I brush aside a curtain of his hair, whispering in his ear loud enough for him to hear through the music, “I want you to sit here right here by yourself. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t look at anyone. Sit here, be patient. Don’t get up until I tell you to, do you understand me?” He mouths back a yes, looking a little surprised himself as I stand, gulping down the last of my margarita before watching him take my seat, peeking up at me patiently. I raise my finger indicating for him to wait as I cross over to the bar, sliding the empty margarita glass to Thomas who turns around from drying a beer mug.

“Mojito. You know how he likes them.” I tell him simply, taking a seat at the bar stool.

“Now there’s something he hasn’t ordered for a little while.” Thomas glances up at me, taking the empty glass and grabbing a new one for the mojito. “Your tab or his?”

“Mine.” I raise a brow at him, not in the mood to be joking around or playing games, especially on the subject of Casimir. Thomas and I exchange glances as I take the mojito from him, walking back to Casimir and placing it within his hands without another word, watching him peer at the icy drink, gladly taking it and sipping from the straw right away. I turn away from him once more and plop right back down on the bar stool, crossing my arms on the bar counter and clearing my throat at Thomas. “Why?”

“It might not be my place to say.” I can tell the topic must at least bother Thomas a bit.

“I can make it your place to say so.” I’m stunned by the venom of my own words, still feeling angered and annoyed from the entirety of today’s shit show.

“You ever seen a guy like him just come down to a bar to count every last cent and dollar bill on the counter?” Thomas responds, leaning over to talk to me. “Well? That’s him, every single night before the two of you met. I assume he would have done the same if you hadn’t picked up his tab the night you two came across each other.”

“I don’t understand, are you telling me he’s…?” I narrow my eyes.

“Either coming here time after time or not at all because his paycheck keeps getting lower and lower. Has he been staying with you as of late? Because I don’t know how much longer he’s going to hold that apartment of his.” Thomas murmurs, his eyes finding sudden interest in the glass bar countertop.

“So even you know he works at that bakery.” I scoff. “And I thought this was just a pastime of his. Who the hell can consider that a living wage?”

“Maybe you should ask the guy who deals with his finances.” Thomas lets out a little sigh, straightening up. “He’s broke, Lancelot. There’s no other way to say this. He’s embarrassed because he can’t come down to a bar and afford a mojito anymore. He’s too busy trying to see if he can afford groceries for the month, let alone rent. Has he told you he’s stopped driving? He was in debt for weeks on end when he took lessons a year back, and then he never showed up here. Now that the price of gas has gone up just by a few dollars, he’s got a discount on a bus pass. He gets around like that, and I can tell every single time with that look in his eyes it fucking kills him. He’s going to end up starving at this rate, but nothing I say can convince him to get a better job. Do you get what I’m trying to tell you?”

My mouth remains open in shock as I stare Thomas in the eye, taking in all of what he just told me. I nod slowly, gritting my teeth and feeling the muscles of my jaw cleanse. I refuse to look back at Casimir, continuing our little conversation. “I know who pays him. Would you believe me if I told you he bought a quarter of a bag of cocaine from me?”

“I’d believe anything you say.” Thomas rubs his forehead in frustration. “At this point, what isn’t happening over there? Come on, it’s gotta stress a guy out to death worrying about shit like that. I think he’s embarrassed you’re paying his tab. He still owes us about twenty five dollars or so.”

“Well consider it fucking payed.” I reach into my wallet, sliding him fifty dollars to also cover the drinks from tonight.

Thomas places his hand on the fifty dollar bill, sliding it towards him. “Honestly? I’m glad he met someone like you. At least you’re the type to take care of him. That’s what he wants, doesn’t he? He’s so used to getting pushed around.”

“Why would he be used to that?” I scrunch up my nose.

“Ex boyfriend was kind of a fucking asshole who always payed late.” Thomas grumbles, scratching his arm. “That’s a different story we don’t need to get into right now.”

“Excuse me.” I get off my seat, walking back towards Casimir who holds onto his drink, looking at me hopefully. “Cas, stand up.”

Putting his drink aside, he stands to face me as I take his hand gently, giving it a soft squeeze before I lunge him towards me harshly, catching his mouth in a full, deep kiss. Both of our eyelids shut in response as I find my tongue intertwining his, picking up on the sweet taste of the mint mojito on him.

I pull away, leaving him a blushing and flustered mess, panting a little from the surprise kiss. “L-Lancelot…”

“You were late, Cas. I thought we both said eight thirty was going to work.” My friendly expression almost immediately fades.

“I’m sorry, I-I got caught up along the way.” Casimir rubs the bridge of his nose. “I got here as fast as I could, I promise. I didn’t want to leave you waiting either.”

“It’s fine, I believe you.” I sigh deeply, leading him out the entrance of the bar. “But that’s not what I want to talk about right now, get in the car, please.”

“Lance—”

“Just do as I fucking say for once, Casimir.” I glower, opening the front passenger seat’s door for him as he crawls in. Huffing, I take my seat and start up the car, watching him as he clicks his seatbelt on. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to be keeping fucking secrets from each other.”

“What are you talking about?” The tone of voice in Casimir sounds restrained and tightened, almost reaching out on edge as he talks to me.

“I don’t know where to begin, but how about we start with your little baker boyfriend.” I glare at the road, driving off towards my place.

“Boyfriend?” He seems just as astonished as me. “You’re talking about Luca? Ugh—no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He sure did make it clear to me he was.” I reply, refusing to even look his way.

“Wait, you _know_ Luca?” Casimir squeaks, and I can feel his curious eyes on me.

“No, but Brad does, and I don’t want to get to know the fucker either after hearing about this. Why would he think something like that about you, huh?” I tap my fingers impatiently against the steering wheel.

“I wish I could tell you.” Casimir’s voice cracks. “I fought with him today at work and that’s it. He’s too overprotective and—”

“You should tell him he has nothing to worry about, and it’s not up to him to ask or think so.” I interrupt him. “You have me, after all.”

“That’s the thing, h-he…” Casimir takes in a deep breath, “he doesn’t like you, Lancelot, I can’t just… I can’t just barge in there and tell him, and I don’t want to. I don’t honestly feel comfortable talking to him about us anymore.”

“I see…” I murmur quietly. “I saw it coming, really. The time you two spend together is already an indicator. I mean I can’t exactly blame the little shit either, can I? You don’t even appreciate yourself.”

I look over at Casimir, seeing his cheeks burning in red blush at what I just said. “Whatever there is…you’ve only seen it then.”

“I prefer to keep it that way, Cas. Between you and me, he already expressed how much he disliked me to my own brother. I admit he’s too stupid to know Brad and I are related.” I give a half lie, knowing Brad wasn’t in the picture.

 “I—”

“Save it, cum slut.” I park the car up carefully into the driveway, taking off my seatbelt and stepping out of the car as he does the same. He quietly follows my lead from behind as I unlock the front door and toss the keys onto the counter as I enter. “Tell me,” I head over to my bedroom, “is there something between the two of you anyways?”

“No, there isn’t.” He almost whines in response. “There’s nothing Luca can give me that I want or need in any way…”

“Except money.” I remind him, closing the door behind us as he slowly sits on the edge of my bed, looking at me with deep worry embedded in his eyes. “Isn’t that right? Or were you hiding that from me too?”

“I didn’t have to tell you that in order for you to think I was p-pathetic.” His voice breaks as he fights back tears, peeking my interest in how sensitive he is in a conversation about finances.

“Casimir…” I shake my head at him, “I’ve never met someone in the wrong place at the wrong time as you. Believe me when I tell you the only person you need to give into…” I lean in closer to him, tilting his chin up roughly to face me directly. “Is me. Entirely.”

His breath hitches as he nods at me slowly, swallowing as he sniffles, trying to hide his forming tears. “I’m s-sorry…”

I blink, my eyes widening at his crying. “It seems the only thing that owes you an apology is the world, not me. Not anyone else. If you remain like this, Cas… Detroit will end up eating you alive. Come here, don’t cry. Don’t cry on me now.”

“I’m p-pathetic, Lancelot, I’m…there’s nothing I can do—”

“Stop, please.” I mumble under my breath, diving in for a sweet kiss. I kiss him tenderly and softly, finding a piece of me wanting nothing but to nurture and care for him. I’ll admit to myself I can’t stand to see him cry, it breaks me. The world is crushing him at all sides and yet he confides in me…

 _I never knew I would be able to feel this way at all._ My kiss isn’t greedy or tugging, but rather relaxed and gentle with him. Our lips interwine between each other as we continue to kiss each other. I wish so badly just to take his sadness away, and with the drying of the last of his tears convinces me enough that he needs me more than ever.

“Cas, do you want to be with me here…? Forever? Do you want to be by my side? I can promise you everything…” I stroke his cheeks as he presses his forehead against mine, separating from the kiss. “I have money, Cas. There’s nothing you need to worry about. I have it all handled, whatever you want. I’m going to give you whatever you want…”

“But I want you.” He whispers back to me, brushing his lips against mine.

“You want me…” I repeat, my eyes staring at him with a burning lust growing deep in me, causing my cock to twitch in response. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. I’m not going to put you in a position where people just continue to shit on you and make your life a living hell, so if you want to make this work, then you’ll help me out, won’t you? Quit your job, Casimir.”

“W-what...?” His eyes bulge.

“Quit your job at that fucking pathetic bakery and for once make the money you deserve. Stop slaving away in there for hours almost everyday knowing you still can’t pay rent.” He appears appalled before me as I continue at him, fueled by his expression, “I know, Cas. And trust me, the last thing you need is an eviction notice and debt. I can take that all away. I can ease your pain…”

“But Luca…? How can I just leave him running the bakery like that by himself?” He whimpers back.

“Hiring more people for help just didn’t come to mind?” I scoff, pulling away and sitting next to him.

“Well…” He gazes down sadly at his hands. “We’ve had a ‘help wanted’ sign at the door for over a year now…”

“Sounds like a personal problem for him, not you, since you’re going to quit, _aren’t you_?” I gaze deeply at him. “And I’ll be there every step of the way to support you. Can you do for that for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I can…” He nods at me, crossing his legs and peering around the room shyly.

“And for now…” I fish my hand into my pocket, grabbing my wallet out and sliding two one-hundred dollar bills and handing it to him. “Take this, outside money. You won’t get around counting your cents and worrying where your next drink comes from.”

“I…I can’t accept this, Lancelot!” Casimir shakes his head, holding his hand out in protest. “This is your money, it’s not right—”

“I get to decide what’s right or wrong if it’s my money, right, Cas?” I insist, placing the bills in his palms. “Take it, for the love of God, and get used to it, because I’m going to be giving you allowance like this from now on.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m using you though…” His blue eyes glimmer as he places the money aside.

“Oh please, you don’t know what it means to be used.” I brush his comment aside, tossing my wallet over to the night-table. “And tomorrow, you’re going to show me whatever it is you have in your bank account and I’m going to pay off all of your bills, gas, whatever you need.”

“You never did tell me what it was you do for a living.” He nibbles shyly on the bottom of his lip. “You really don’t have to go that far—”

“Trust me, I think I do.” I stretch out my hands, grunting as I relieve myself through a stretch. “Considering you won’t be working in that hellhole of a bakery anymore. I hope your friend is good with taking sudden and unfortunate news?”

“I—” Casimir pauses, pushing a few loose strands of his hair aside. “Are you…jealous of Luca?”

My frown only deepens as I look him straight in the eye, crossing my arms. “To an extent.”

“Actually, it’s pretty cute…” He giggles softly, “I like seeing the softer, squishier side of you, you know? You sort of melt when you get like this.”

“If that’s how you like it.” I give a little chuckle, pulling him closer to me as he wraps his arms gingerly around my shoulders.

“And what should I say exactly tomorrow when I go to resign…?” He ushers his voice down to a teasing whisper.

“You can tell him…” My voice trails off in distraction as I watch his jeans hang off his hips loosely. I do away with his belt before unzipping him, all while maintaining strict eye contact. “That your boyfriend doesn’t approve.”

“Yes, sir.” He purrs, kicking off his jeans and pressing his bulge against mine immediately, catching me a little off guard as I give a startled moan.

“You little slut…” I murmur, yanking off his boxer shorts and forcing him down on my lap. “Can’t even have a serious conversation without you wanting to be fucked.”

“What can I say…?” He sticks out his tongue playfully at me. “It’s my specialty. I know you can’t really resist now, can you?”

“Talk dirty like that again and I’ll have my dick in your mouth.” I watch as he slightly arches his back, pressing his lips together in a mischievous grin.  _He knows what I like and how I want it too._ “Fuck yes. Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?” I hiss, pulling his shirt off of him and running my fingertips down the back of his spine slowly down to his ass, causing him to shiver and take in a little shaky breath. “You’re simply perfect…every little thing about you…belongs to me.” I clasp his ass with both hands, spreading him as he covers his mouth, muffling his little girly moans. I lick over my lips, slapping his ass gently on both sides before hitting harshly, watching him squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure.

I rub around his ass cheeks for a bit before hitting again, watching his milky pale skin get increasingly redder. As I glance to my side, I find him sucking gently on my index finger on my free hand, watching over me quietly as I continue spanking him, causing him to open his mouth and groan louder, drooling over my hand. “Sloppy little fucking whore.” I grab his hair, pushing his head down to the bed as he cries out in excitement. “Enjoying your punishment already? Looks like I’m not trying hard enough, am I, princess?”

“I could scream louder, huh…?” He whispers, winking at me as I smirk deviously at him, squeezing harshly at his ass.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” I tease, smacking as hard as I can at the same reddened spot, watching him clench his ass and continue to whimper girlishly, continuing to turn me on.

My bulge practically pokes at his side as I grit my teeth, licking down my hand as I continue to spank him. “Maybe this’ll teach your cum filled brain something next time, huh?” I pull at his hair, cocking his head back as I watch him jerk himself up, whining and cumming over the bedsheets. “Couldn’t even hold yourself back, what a shame.”

“ _Oh fuuuuuuuck_!” His voice quivers as he rolls his eyes back in pleasure, pushing as hard as he can against my cock.

“Filthy little fuck,” I scoop up the cum stain over the sheets, smearing it over his ass as he spreads himself, giggling and nodding lazily. “Twice in two minutes, you know what that tells me?”

“T-tell me sir, oh please say so…” He breathes heavily, one blue eye peeking at me as he leans his head against the sheets.

“Someone needs a heavy dose of discipline, what good is any punishment if all it does is make you cum like this?” I shake my head, “tsk, tsk.”

“Oh d-daddy, I agree…” He pants, “but I can’t help myself around you. I wanna be perfect for you…”

“Not that you even have to try, huh…?” I flip him over as he lays on his back, rubbing down his chest with the tips of his fingers in little circles as he watches me, gesturing with his free hand.

 _“I want you to want me.”_ He breathes out as I hover over him, running my hands down his smooth and perfectly fuckable body. Everything about him is stunning, down to the core of just what I want. I can tell from his muscles he’s either down track or some sort of body contact sport, complimenting the shape of his body perfectly.  _How I fucking love blondes like him. I guess I have a type after all._

“I could do all sorts of things to you tonight, but you’ve earned something special entirely…” I gently bite on his bottom lip, kissing it and pulling it towards me before letting go. “I don’t think I’ve even had a proper moment to appreciate just how good my fucking whore is…”

“Up to you…” His giggles are breathless as he watches my needy eyes scan over every inch of his sweet body. I kiss down his collarbones harshly, sucking a little over his neck but being gentle with my hickies.

“Promise me one thing…” I breath hotly against his neck, gently rubbing the tip of his dick with my thumb. “Promise me you won’t keep anything from me…promise you’ll open up to me.”

“I promise…” He leans in to me as his hands find my hair. Excitement flashes through his eyes as he opens his mouth to say, “only if you promise to fall in love with me in return.”


	14. Concupiscible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to Lancelot's senior year at one of Brad's many house parties, revealing his introverted side and how he met someone new and pulled his interest before he met Casimir. Not a hearts or flowers kind of guy, Lancelot delves into who he was before and the relationship with his brother before his graduation, leading out to the main, current events and wondering if love truly grows between Lancelot and Casimir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 update! Getting into Lancelot's side of the story in a flashback of his ending senior year, this chapter reveals a house party in which Brad and him attend! Lancelot meets someone new, someone he liked before he met Casimir, and remained the same introverted self. Next chapter will have more on Casimir's side! Tell me what you guys think, has Lancelot changed from the past or has it affected him to how he gets to know Casimir? A lot of character development! As always, warnings apply to this chapter/story. 18+ only!

**May 5 th, 2012.**

**Lancelot’s Perspective.**

_“Your brother is really nothing like you, is he?”_ They would always remind me whenever we crossed paths or remotely spoke to each other—all of these girls who we always knew were just pulling at each other’s hair to sit on my brother Brad’s dick first.  _"But lately, there’s been a lot of similarities between the two of you.”_ I had to appreciate Brad in one way for introducing me to his group of friends otherwise I might as well have drifted away into the group of nobodies or those outcasted kids who although were like my introverted self deep down, didn’t have a wild partier for a brother.

That was Brad’s favorite thing to do and still is to this day, doubt it’ll change now that he’s in college going from one party to the next—better than the rest. And what kind of excuses does he have if he’s scoring good grades and still attending class? The guy can do whatever he wants, but how he does it fascinates me even though we live in the same house together. Brad always spared me the trouble of being an awkward guy, all throughout my teenager years. When I was thirteen all the way through seventeen, I barely did much of anything and preferred to observe. I wasn’t shy, I just didn’t have anything to say. I opened up to those who I knew for a long time and I could trust, obviously. This didn’t mean I was some sort of empty guy who hung out alone or stayed on the internet until ungodly hours of the night because I had nothing better to do—I did stuff with the guys I hung out with once I wasn’t hanging around Brad and his jock group of friends.

I’m sure if we kept Brad at home even with internet connection, he would eventually whine and groan about going out, meeting someone new, _fucking_ someone new, and partying all over again. Fridays and Saturdays were his prime days, and he would party even if he knew it was a school night—it just had to be a good party. Unlike me, Brad is impressed quickly and by almost anything. He knows what he likes and how to get it, I don’t. Well, at least back then I didn’t know, now it’s a bit more different altogether. Brad barely even had a falling out with his friends and he still maintained his closest ones all through high school and onto college. I saw the same guys and girls at every single party up to the point where their faces were just engraved into the back of my mind, and the same for them when it came to me.

They didn’t treat me any less than him, but I certainly was no Brad—twin or not. They never excluded me either, but the last thing I wanted to do was live up to their expectations. Senior came by and nothing changed. I was surrounded by guys and girls at house parties, drinks here and there and more snacks than there were people. If Brad was nowhere in sight, he was either making out with a chick in the closet, fucking a chick upstairs,  or having an orgy all together—it’s what he liked to do. It was only me and one other guy who was gay at the party, and either Brad or one of his friends told him about me, because he was wandering throughout the crowds, keeping quiet and shy to himself yet his eyes were peeled out searching for someone.

That someone was me, and he approached me sitting at the couch in the back of the room, gesturing to the empty space beside me. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Not at all.” I shrugged, taking a slow sip out of my half empty beer can. At that point, I already knew why he was here, it was to talk to me, but I didn’t have a problem with it. It’s more painfully awkward to sit by yourself on your second can of beer than it is to actually talk to someone who wasn’t a part of Brad’s jock group, and maybe had something interesting to say for once. That being said, it wasn’t like this new guy wasn’t attractive or anything. Blonde with a styled undercut, a little bit of gel throughout his hair and these glistening dark green eyes—I didn’t recognize him from any other party.

“If you’re new here, then you’re in for a treat.” I say sarcastically, looking over at him as he faces me in curiosity.

“Yeah? I guess I made it too obvious, eh?” He sighs, shrugging. “I just came out to meet new people and maybe chill out a bit, but everyone seems to be too indulged in their own groups to really do anything else.”

“Tell me about it. They sent you over here back to me?” I practically scoff. “It’s so like them.”

“Not that it’s a bad thing, you know. I was in Brad’s computer science class and he told me a bit about you.” He chuckles. “You’re his brother, that’s clear. The two of you look strikingly alike.”

“I hope it’s enough to tell us apart.” I snicker, sitting up. “He better have said some good things.”

“Enough to raise my interest.” And there it was, a slight touch of blush on both of his cheeks.

_Well, this night could prove interesting then._

“I’d rather not kiss a stranger, what’s your name?” I gulp down the last of my beer, scowling at the cheap taste.

“Heath.” He replies back, “graduating class, though I won’t blame you if you didn’t know that.”

“One of the eight hundred kids, right?” I grin at him. “It’s all cool. If you actually want to do something instead of sit here all night with the virgin, I’d really suggest you go.”

He raises both his brows at me, stifling a laugh. “Oh? You’re making this about me now, are you?”

“That is why you came here, didn’t you? For me? Did you want to make small talk about birds and the weather or really get to what you wanted to say?” Was it the shitty party vibes talking for me or was I just feeling awfully confident that night? I have no fucking idea.

“Depends what you want.” He lowers his voice and the eye contact we make is an intense, heavy gaze.

“Good, it should always come to that… No strings attached.” I purse my lips. “If that’s what you want. Although it may just be too much for you.”

“I don’t think you know what I’m capable of, huh?” He’s amused by my words, rising from the couch with me. “Even from the sounds of it…you’re such a dominant.”

“Glad you found out.” I remark.

“It’s actually pretty fucking sexy, actually.” He comments back, gently pulling at the collar of my shirt. “Not sure what you see in me, exactly.”

I smirk, pausing for a moment. “I don’t think that’s something I can tell you in front of all these people, can I?”

“By all means, lead me out then.” He’s so enticing and confident with what he wants that I can barely keep both my enthusiasm and hard on inside myself, letting a complete stranger from my high school just walk out the front door with me, both knowing the night was just going to end filled with cum.

A sort of passion grew inside me towards Heath in that moment. Even his small talk wasn’t all that bad. Instead of being shy about it and dropping hints everywhere, he knew what he wanted, and it was me, _for once._ Out of everyone else, he intrigued me and raised my confidence the highest it had ever been at any party. Of course there wasn’t a romantic connection, but he turned me on in the heat of the moment—almost as if he knew I wouldn’t be able to refuse. I would have mistaken him for a new friend of Brad’s if he never came to talk to me personally. The way his body was shaped so athletic and fit made me horny enough to know I wanted to dominate him. I wanted him underneath me, even if it was going to be just for one night.

The smell of his soft cologne was the first thing that hit me on our way out the door. The cool, spring air breezed around us as lights and music continued to flash and blare to no end at the party. A couple guys and girls were out in the front yard sharing drinks and talking to each other, but nobody even bothered to look at us or at our way—which we didn’t really care for in the first place. We crossed the street back to my car and had all the privacy we could possibly want. As I opened the car door, I felt him purposefully press his ass against me, teasing me from the very start.

“You’re eager, huh?” I whispered to him, crawling in the back seat. “You’re lucky I can’t resist you.”

“Shut up and kiss me…” He gave a low, sexy growl as he tangled his hands within my hair, tugging gently as I got over top, finding my lips crashing over to his as if they belonged there from the beginning.

I moaned into his mouth as I felt both of our cocks grind against each other through a thin layer of sweatpants. His biceps were sturdy and strong, and every little piece of him turned me on. Ironically, after all the time of telling myself I wanted nothing passionate before romance, this occurred to me, and I loved it so fucking much. My first kiss went to Heath who I met moments ago, but my body already craved his and there was no denying that. Our sloppy, full mouth kiss transpired to me trailing kisses down his neck and sucking harshly, reaching down his boxers and jerking him off as quick as my hands could go at the same time.

It was a lusty combination to him as he continued to groan and writher in pleasure underneath me, “oh God, suck a little harder… Yes, fuck, right there… My sweet spot… Ugh, it hurts… More, I want it…” He liked mixing his pleasure with a little bit of pain, sparking something inside of me which I didn’t even know I had. I was already so wildly attracted to his appearance and began to fall in love with the way he would moan my name and beg for me like a pathetic little slut.

He came three times already in ten minutes as my hand worked alongside his shaft, teasing and stroking every inch of his dick. He was completely submissive to me in the back of my car, bucking his hips up and down to beg for my dick. Gladly, I pulled down my sweatpants and felt the tips of our cocks touch, whining a little in pleasure at the erotic response.

“Fuck yes…” I hissed under my breath, lacing both hands with him tightly. He left nothing back, moaning louder than ever. The fact I was pleasing the fuck out of him only got me even more horny. It felt like I could go on and on forever, just fucking the hot stranger from the party. All the hours of watching porn and jerking off in my own bedroom couldn’t amount to the pleasure I felt with both of our sweaty bodies on top of each other. We made a mess of ourselves, cumming over each other and taking turns licking it before we collapsed out of exhaustion in each other’s arms.

“L-Lancelot…” He panted, raking a hand through his hair as beads of sweat formed upon his forehead. “F-Fuck… You’re so fucking good, you know that?”

“You tell me…” I breathed, stealing a kiss from his lips.

_What’s gotten into me?_

“Never took you for a kinky guy.”

“Trust me, it’s so much fucking hotter when it’s received back… You don’t mind this in your car?” He laughed softly.

I winked, laughing with him. “Nah, not at all. Trust me, had I known, I would have brought some lube with me.”

“Mm well, I like me a prepared man.” He stroked himself ever so slowly and gently, regaining his breath. “Now there’s something Brad didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough…” I grazed my fingertip along one of his darkest hickies as his breath hitches. “You’re fine going back looking like this?”

“You kidding me? Leaving love marks like this is the hottest thing you could do.” He told me. “You marked me good alright…I swear I could cum to just that.”

“You did prove that, Heath…” I relaxed against the seats of my car, pulling up my boxers. “Maybe you’ll come to these parties more often.”

“Tell me I can at least see you again.” He gazed up at me lazily, growing softer.

“As many times as you want in the back of my car,” I joked as he got up, giggling and beginning to put his clothes back on.

“I don’t know what it is about cars, but it’s definitely sexy. Anything but a bed at this point. I guess we’re not strangers anymore, eh?” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Anything but.” I breathed back, grabbing the rest of my clothes on with the last bit of strength I have left in me. “Ah, holy fuck…”

“You good…?” He opened up the car door as I had let out a deep breath, nodding back at him.

“It’s this fucking shitty beer, I tell you.” I murmured as he burst out laughing, making his way out of the car and extending a hand for me. “Agh—thanks.”

“I got you.” I shut the door behind me, breathing in the crisp, late-night air.

“Lancelot, are you—?” A voice called out breaks into the night as Heath and I glanced across the street, finding Brad with a brunette chick wrapped snuggly around his arm.

“There he is.” I grumbled and gestured towards him as he opened his mouth once more to shout something but instead hiccupped, causing Heath and I to continue to stifle our laughter.

“The infamous Brad everyone knows and hears about, ah.” Heath commented as the two crossed the street and walked up over to us. “Hey man, welcome.”

“Aren’t you glad I made this match come true?” Brad slurred, clearly drunk as his new girl helped him stand, looking up at him with pure admiration in her eyes.

_Oh boy, here we go again._

“Right, thanks for embarrassing me.” I said as he grinned devilishly at the two of us. As the conversation between Heath and Brad commenced, I felt increasingly light-headed with each passing sentence. I swallowed hard and attempted to focus as best as I could, but even taking a deep breath began to get increasingly difficult. I nodded and gave one worded answers as I blinked to clear my vision, feeling something horrible churning in the bottom of my stomach already giving me a clear indicator that all it took was two fucking cans of beer to get me into this state.

“Oh sweet fucking…” I winced, seeing Heath’s worried eyes fall on me.

“Lancelot, are you alright?” He gently gripped my arm but it was too late, I had already spun to face away from the three before I lowered my head, letting out a choking cough and vomiting away everything I had drank that night.

“Oh my God!” Brad’s girl shrieked as he burst out laughing, patting my back.

“Wow, come on, Lancelot!” Brad snorted as Heath put a protective arm around me.

“ _Fuuuuuuck_!” I exclaimed loudly, sputtering and vomiting on the grass across from me, knowing damn well I would have stumbled right into it too if Heath wasn’t letting me hold onto him. “Shit, fuck, I’m fine. I’m f-fine.” I grumbled loudly.

“We all knew that was coming. Well? What are the two of you waiting for? Come on back inside and get some real liquor at least before we call a taxi.” Brad gestures. “ _Come ooooon!_ All the vodka is gonna be out by now!”

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off, making my way with Heath across the street as I clear my voice.

“You up for another round of shots or do you want me to call a cab to get you home?” Heath’s voice was gentle, and I can still remember how he looked upon me that night. He was thoughtful, the kind of guy to care for you before letting you fuck him senseless. At that time, he was everything I wanted, even if we met and hung out at shitty parties—they were much better with a face I recognized and wanted to see. I wasn’t even sure if things had gone too fast, but everything sure felt fine and perfect in the moment being. It was fine the way it was, and I was overjoyed to be ending my senior year on a good note.

_I’m graduating and I’ve finally met someone._

That was it for me, but Heath didn’t last. I should have known he would leave as suddenly as my parents did, and he was just one of those people I would have never gotten closure with again or have known what he was thinking. He started everything I ever wanted with Casimir, but what continued between us…whether it be romance or pure lust and good sex, was something else entirely. It was unforgettable in a way, but it felt like a bond, and we both enjoyed it.

_Was this the guy I would be giving cute kisses on the lips to and holding his hand through the halls? Would it be official?  
_

Right then and there it was just the beer talking for me. I got all sappy and mushy too fast, but there was definitely something there, and it was undeniable. Now? There’s nothing but Casimir, and it doesn’t really seem like he’s going to be enough for me and for what I want until he can prove himself, that is. My version of “Luca” was Heath and I know this, but if anything killed the mood or feelings altogether is competition of any kind. Like hell would I ever be caught competing for someone’s attention, much less their attraction to me. I was barely undesirable as it was. 

That was it for me, I didn’t really care about tripping through heartstrings. Romance is almost foreign to me, but passion, sex, all of that desire is everything. That was the break-or-make rule to me, but it was never one that happened with Heath. That’s what I loved about it sometimes. You had someone all to yourself, no worries. Why would I even think about sharing? And why would Casimir hesitate on the whole matter if he wanted me out of everyone else?

_It’s so simple. Nobody loves me as much as I fucking love them._


End file.
